


My humble, unworthy self

by esama



Category: Hikaru no Go
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-22
Updated: 2014-04-22
Packaged: 2018-01-20 10:46:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 30,003
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1507715
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/esama/pseuds/esama
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He cannot remember but thankfully Hikaru never forgot, not even after a decade, several dan-levels and just as many paper fans.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. One Mysterious Fan

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted on fanfiction.net on 10/18/2009  
> Proofread by Darlene and Chama

Fushou stared at his knees nervously, concentrating on his hands and keeping them from grasping the fabric of his trousers and twisting them. He had that habit when he was nervous, taking hold of something and twisting it. Usually it was fine, usually he could take hold of the hem of his shirt or jumper or the sheet or whatever fabric he had in hand, but the pants were new and he didn't want to wrinkle them. They had been expensive - at least by his standards.

 _'It's completely natural to feel nervous and awkward,'_ he mused, trying to rationalise his anxiousness to himself. _'It's an odd place, so it's no wonder. I have never been here before. The smells and the sounds are off… there are too many people… I feel like I'm being watched…'_

And he was. He could see them from the corner of his eyes. Two young women by the counter where eyeing him rather noticeably while selecting their drinks. There was also a man sitting at a table nearby, looking at him over his newspaper. The woman behind the counter, who was now waiting for the young female customers to finish their choosing so that she could ring it up, was also looking at him.

Was he so out place here that people felt the need to memorise his features? Or was it something else - were his clothes off, was his hairstyle so rare here, was there perhaps some dirt on his coat - or on his face…? He hoped it wasn't the coat, he had just gotten it and he rather liked it. Maybe it had been risky getting it - it had been expensive but still he had picked the white one, and not the black. White got dirty easier and was harder to clean, so it hadn't been a wise choice, but…  

Fushou frowned, trying to shake the thought from his head without actually shaking his head. He was babbling in his thoughts. A certain proof of how nervous he was. Trying to rid himself of the feeling, he reached for his teacup, only to see that it was already empty. When had he drunk it? He couldn't remember. Probably soon after getting it, when had that been? Ten minutes ago? Twenty? How long had he been sitting there?

Awkwardly, he glanced at the small cafeteria's counter, hoping that there was a clock somewhere near by it. There was, just atop the coffee maker. The hands pointed at two twenty five. Twenty five minutes then. Fushou eyed the clock for a moment. He had been dawdling for twenty five minutes in the Association cafeteria, trying to build up the nerve to do… something. Twenty five minutes of wasting time.

 _'I need to do something - I need to do it - before I lose my nerve completely,'_ he thought determinately and made a move to sit up. Before he could, however, he found a shadow being cast on the table before him, and almost jumped when he realised that the cafeteria's keeper was standing next to his table.

"Would you like another cup?" the woman asked with a kind smile.

"Ah, what? Tea, no, I'm… I'm fine," Fushou quickly stammered. "T-thank you."

The woman blinked and smiled. "Alright then," she said, picking the empty tea cup and placing it to her tray, where it joined two other empty cups. "Are you waiting for someone here, perhaps? I don't think I've seen you here before," she then said and winked. "Trust me; I'd remember if I had."

Fighting a fierce blush, Fushou collapsed in the chair and stared at the table. "I, uh… I was hoping to…" he swallowed. "To see if I could… meet someone."

"Oh?" the woman asked and, much to Fushou's utter and complete horror, sat down beside him. She smiled warmly at him while leaning her elbow on the table, and her chin on her palm. "One of the pro's? It's not uncommon, you know. We get many Go enthusiasts who come here to see their idols," she chuckled. "I keep up with the schedules of some of the most famous ones - title holders and the most popular upper dans and such - so I might know if they're here or not."

Fushou felt mortified. An… enthusiast? _Him_? "No, it's not, I'm not…" he trailed away as he realised that his actual reason maybe wasn't any better than being an enthusiastic Go follower. "It's…" he hesitated before frowning. "It's Shindo, Shindo Hikaru … I was hoping I could, um… meet him."

"Shindo? Shindo seventh-dan?" the woman asked and chuckled. "Hikaru of the Fan. Heh, I don't think I've ever met a Go fanatic who idolises him - you know, aside from the other pros. He oddly enough has a small following among the lower dans," she leaned forward. "I think it has something to do with the fact that he's Toya-sensei's rival and those two have been in a stalemate for years despite the fact that Toya-sensei is already a ninth-dan. Those two go back and forth between wins and losses; it's like watching a tug o' war at times!"

Fushou tried to hide the fact that he had no idea who "Toya-sensei" was or why a stalemate between him and Shindo Hikaru was important. "Do… do you know if Shindo might be here, then?" he asked hopefully.

"Hmm…" the woman thought about it, drumming her lower lip with her fingers before frowning. "I'm sorry, but I don't know. Shindo's not one of the people I keep up with, but I can check it for you," she stood up. "It won't take a minute; I'll just call upstairs and ask my friend up in the office. She knows all the schedules."

Fushou nodded. "If it's not too much trouble…" he murmured.

"Not at all," the cafeteria keeper smiled and winked at him. "Just hang on for a moment, I'll be right back."

The man sighed once she was out the hearing range, before starting to absently fiddle with the table cloth. No turning back now. What would he say if Shindo was there, what would he say if they actually met? He had thought up many things before coming - many excuses - but couldn't remember any of them. Should he greet the man? Or maybe apologise for intruding on the man's schedule? Shindo was probably a busy man - as far as Fushou had been able to gather, being a high-rank professional in the Go world meant a busy schedule… or something like that.

It was so embarrassing being there, given that he had no idea how the professional Go world worked - or how _Go_ itself worked, for that matter. It was like being in a sports stadium without understanding the sport or the people interested in it. Except the Go Association building was really more like an odd office building than any sport related place… but then again, Go was a board game, not exactly a sport…

Fushou took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. He was babbling in his head again. He really needed to stop doing that. He needed to pull himself together - though _how_ he could do that, he had no idea, as this was pretty much how he always was, just in lesser quantity. Meetings always made him nervous. Just meeting his landlord made him jumpy.

"You're in luck. It seems that Shindo has a game at the moment," the cafeteria keeper's voice made Fushou nearly jump. "And they're already well into the second half, so it shouldn't be long now… I let Shiori know that you're looking for Shindo and she promised to tell him when he'd pass by her … if you're willing to wait, I think you can meet him."

Fushou looked up at her, drawing his hands from the wrinkled table cloth to his lap and nodding. "T-thank you," he said, even though his heart was fluttering with panic now. "I appreciate it."

"You're welcome," the woman smiled. "Would you like another tea while you wait? Or maybe some coffee? No offence, but you look like you could use it."

"Um… yes, I'll have tea. Just plain green tea, please," Fushou nodded, turning his flushed face back to the table. Was he really so transparent? Probably.

The woman returned soon with the tea. "On the house," she winked while glancing around the open cafeteria and then sitting down beside him again. "It's quiet now," she murmured, stretching her hands. "It'll get a bit busier once they're done upstairs - some pro's come down here to relax after a match. Sometimes you can even see Ogata-sensei come down here for a smoke!"

Fushou looked at her nervously from the corner of his eyes, wondering if he was supposed to know who this Ogata person was and why it was remarkable to see him in the cafeteria. He decided against asking. "Um…" he hesitated for a moment before gathering his nerve. "Can… can you tell me about Shindo… sensei?" he asked, the last word feeling awkward on his tongue. The man in the picture he had seen hadn't seemed like a _sensei_ to him.

"Well…" the woman trailed away thoughtfully. "He's a pretty strange case, that one. Strong, obviously, you don't get to be a _seventh_ -dan at his age if you're not strong - well, of course there's Toya-sensei, but Toya-sensei's a special case. Shindo, though… as far as I know, he was an insei before becoming a pro - just for one year, though, passed his pro-exam on first try. There was some fuss about him in the beginning, something about sick leave I think, I wasn't really into Go back then… anyway, since then he's been one of those steadily improving guys, you know? Rises in rank pretty steadily…"

Fushou turned the tea cup absently in his hands, having no idea what she was talking about. Go-professional ranks obviously, but aside from that he had no idea. What was an insei anyway? Something important? "You called him… Hikaru of the Fan?" he asked cautiously.

"Ah, yes," the woman chuckled. "The mythical _fan_. It's his lucky charm, never goes anywhere without it. Old fashioned thing with a tassel and everything. I've never seen him without it. It's not that rare, a lot of pro's have their quirks, I even know of one who also has a fan but is more known for the habit of _biting_ it than just carrying it," she chuckled. "Shindo's fan is pretty legendary though. He apparently starts tapping his stone bowl with it whenever he waits his opponent to resign, so a lot of lower dans have nightmares about it."

Fushou thought back to the image he had seen. Shindo hadn't had a fan in that one. The most defining feature of the man had been the bleached bangs and the casual clothes, especially considering that the other man in the picture had been wearing a nice suit. "What sort of person is he?" he asked nervously.

"Loud, laughs a lot… he's a nice guy, really. Bit on the rude side, but mostly just because he doesn't seem to think before speaking," the cafeteria keeper smiled at the memory. "His fights with Toya-sensei are legendary, though they rarely happen here. I've heard that they argue a lot at the Go-salon owned by the Toya-family, though. Anyway, Shindo's nothing to be nervous about. He's pretty friendly, I've never actually heard of him being cruel or mean or anything like that."

Fushou nodded, though he didn't feel relieved in the slightest. He wondered for a moment why the woman called this Toya person sensei, but not Shindo. Was the rank difference so huge?

"Anyway, Shindo's been a pro about…" the woman frowned. "Over ten years I think, he became one when he was pretty young… was he fourteen back then? Yeah, I think so, so it's over ten years at least. One of the _New Wave_ , you know. A lot of good young pros appeared at the time, apparently. There was Toya-sensei, then Isumi-sensei… Ochi too, of course…"

The man nodded here and there though he had no idea what she was talking about. Playing Go professionally for over ten years? What kind of life was that? Well, as far as occupations went, it was probably better than Fushou's job anyway…

"Oh, I have customers. Sorry, sweetie," the woman suddenly said, hopping to her feet and shooting yet another wink at Fushou. "We need to continue this in a moment."

The man nodded embarrassedly. Sweetie? Really? Well, he had been called worse, but… sweetie? He shuddered slightly and took a sip of his cooling tea. If he was lucky, that would be the last time he would have to hear himself being called that. Though, his luck being what it was…

By the time he had drunk his tea, more people started appearing. Most of them seemed to be coming from the stairs and the elevator, so he assumed that they had come from upstairs. Whilst some headed towards the exit, others headed for the cafeteria, walking up to the counter to get some drinks and snacks while talking about Go and using terms that Fushou had never heard before. Then there was Shindo Hikaru, walking with a pretty young woman, making odd gestures with his folded fan while explaining something.

Fushou's hands reflexively grabbed a tighter hold on his tea cup before he quickly forced himself to relax his hold. Panicking now would do him no good - he should've panicked a few minutes ago and gotten out of the building when he had the chance - because this was stupid, a long shot and he was going to make a fool out of himself in front of all these people…

Shindo had noticed him. Not just that but he was _staring_ at Fushou, he had even stopped walking. Fushou withdrew his hands from the cup and wondered what he should do. Did Shindo recognise him? It looked like he had - either that or Fushou had spilled tea all over himself and looked stupid enough to merit such a long stare, though surely he would've noticed if he had spilled his drink… he swallowed. What was he supposed to do? Should he get up? Face the man?

After a long _hard_ stare, Shindo turned to look away sharply, leaving Fushou feeling like he had been dismissed somehow. As he blinked with confusion and an odd, painful relief, Shindo walked up to the counter to speak to the woman who had called Fushou _sweetie_. To Fushou's renewed horror, the woman smiled and then pointed him out to Shindo, who turned to look at him again, now with a look of disbelief on his face.

Fushou swallowed. He was going to get yelled at, just like with his landlord when he dared to ask for a few more days until he had to pay the rent, just like with his boss when he dared to ask for a day off, or an early payday… He shouldn't have come here, he was wasting Shindo's time, everyone could see it, he was making a fool out of himself, he should just leave…

Shindo was walking towards him now, long, fast steps which made Fushou feel like he was about to be attacked, that he should run, hide, take cover, anything. Before he could do anything but stare up like a deer caught in head lights, Shindo was already by his table, looking down at him with odd eyes and hands so tightly held in fists that his knuckles were white and his fan was making an odd sound.

Fushou opened his mouth to speak, to apologise, to make an excuse, to cover himself. But he didn't get the chance. Shindo spoke first, only speaking out one word, a strangely strained one, making it sound like it took considerable effort to get it out.

"Sai?"

Fushou didn't know what to say to that. Sai? He opened his mouth and closed it, before awkwardly shaking his head. He almost winced at the look of disappointment that flashed on the man's face, before hurriedly speaking, explaining, apologising. "I-I'm sorry for, for bothering you, Shindo-sensei, I… I imagine you have a very busy schedule… and… um…"

Shindo blinked before giving him an odd look, something between confusion, grief and regret. "It's alright, I'm done for today anyway," he assured and glanced at the counter. "Natsuki-san said you wanted to talk with me?" he asked, and when Fushou was too nervous to answer, he smiled awkwardly. "What's your name?"

"Fushou, I'm… called Fushou," he answered hurriedly. "I'm sorry I'm like… this, I'm kind of…" he looked away with a flush. "I get nervous easily."

Shindo chuckled. "It's okay," he said before making a motion with his hand. "Come on. Let's go outside, maybe you're less nervous with not so many people watching."

It was only then that Fushou realised that the _entire cafeteria_ was staring at them. Flushing up to the roots of his long hair, he hurriedly stumbled away from the table and went after the Go-professional, who waved his goodbyes to his co-workers before heading towards the exit, Fushou following a few steps behind him.

"It's a nice day out," the man with short, partially bleached hair murmured as they stepped out into the warm early autumn hair. After a moment of breathing in, the man headed towards a nearby walkway. "So, I get the feeling that you're not exactly a fan of Go," he said.

"Ah… no, not really, I've never really played it," Fushou murmured, bowing his head. "I'm sorry."

"No need to apologise. There are a lot of people who haven't even _heard_ of Go, it's not like you're making an offence or anything," Shindo laughed, glancing at him, before heading towards a nearby bench and sitting down. "What was it that you wanted, Fushou-san?"

"I, uh…" Fushou hesitated, his fingers taking hold of the sleeves of his jacket and absently twisting the fabric. "This is… this is going to sound stupid but…" he stared at the smooth walkway for a moment before looking up. "Do I… do I know you?"

Shindo tilted his head to the side, looking confused. "Um… what?"

Fushou flushed. "I, uh… I have amnesia," he explained awkwardly. "I've had it for a few years now, and I can't remember _anything_ from the time before I got it. I've tried to remember, I've really tried, I've used all the methods I could think of. I've seen doctors, I've seen specialists, I've even tried acupuncture and shiatsu and reiki and… and a lot of things. I've tried studying different subjects to see if I could find anything I was familiar with, I've… I've tried everything I could think of, but my memory never… never returned…"

He swallowed as he realised he was babbling - and that Shindo was now staring at him. "Um… I… I saw you on a cover of a magazine a few days back - some sort of Go magazine," he said awkwardly, staring at the ground between them. "And… you looked… familiar. For the first time… I'm sorry if I bother you, but I… I had to know, I had to…"

"Amnesia?" Shindo murmured quietly, standing up again and looking at Fushou closely, taking in his face, impossibly long hair, the white coat, the light blue pants, the shoes. Fushou shivered slightly as the man's fingers touched his skin to lift his face to examine it, tilting it to one side gently and then to other. "Fushou… is it your real name?"

"The… the hospital staff gave it to me not much after I… woke up. Since there was no other and no one knew… knew who I was before, they kept calling me that," Fushou murmured, averting his eyes to the side, trying not to be as red as he probably was. "Um… Shindo-sensei…"

The other man let out an odd breath, exasperated, disbelieving and hopeful at the same time. "You look just like him," he murmured, tilting Fushou's face slightly again. "And I had almost forgotten what he looked like! But you have his face, his hair, his eyes; you even wear the same colours. You're missing a hat, but… you look _just like him_ …"

"Like who?" Fushou asked eagerly, turning his eyes to the man again. "Shindo-sensei, do you know me? Did you know me before?"

"I didn't think it was possible - no, I thought without pain of doubt that it was _impossible_ … but…" the Go-professional let him go, giving him an odd, desperate look. "You look just like him. Could it be that you really are my Sai?"

"Sai?" Fushou asked, tasting the word in his mouth. That was what Shindo had called him before. "So, you… knew someone who looks like me?"

"Exactly like you," Shindo murmured with a sad smile, sitting down on the bench again and taking Fushou's hands to his. "Fujiwara no Sai. He was my teacher, my companion and my best friend over ten years ago - he taught me Go. I thought he… died back then. One day he was there and then… then he was gone, and I thought it was for forever. This --" he took the fan, which he had pushed to his pocket, and handed it to Fushou. "Is his, actually. Well, one much like the one he had."

Fushou stared at the fan which was being offered to him handle first, before carefully taking it to his fingers. It felt odd. It was well made, the ribs were polished, painted wood and the paper was obviously hand crafted - the tassel was fine quality too. It opened easily, almost silently. "It feels…" he frowned, sitting down beside the Go-professional, staring at the fan. "It feels nostalgic."

"Does it?" Shindo murmured, eyeing him closely. "When you… woke up with the amnesia, where were you? What happened?"

"I woke up in the hospital," Fushou shrugged his shoulders awkwardly. "I can't remember anything before that. They say that some people found me in the street. They thought I was… drunk or intoxicated and took me to a hospital. I wasn't, but…  I suppose being an amnesiac isn't exactly better."

"Was it here, in Tokyo?" Shindo asked.

Fushou nodded. "Yeah, in Setagaya - I was taken to the Okusawa hospital, that's where I woke up. I live in Setagaya too," he murmured.

"Setagaya, hmm…" Shindo leaned back thoughtfully. "And that was… how long ago?"

"About three years now," Fushou answered, staring at the fan in his hands. It was starting to feel less uncomfortable to hold. "I was at the hospital for some time, until the staff found me a cheap apartment and easy work, so that I could live by myself," he trailed away. It hadn't been easy. He had no schooling, no training, nothing he could remember at least. All he really could do was the easiest of jobs that required no education what so ever. On top of that he still had problems with things like using a computer - sometimes even the simplest things like using public transportation caused a headache for him.

"Three years," the Go-professional murmured, running his hand through his hair with a sigh. "Three years… without memories. That must suck," he frowned, trailing away and glancing at him. "What were you hoping? When you came to see me, that is?" he then asked.

"That you'd know me, could tell me who I am… maybe spark some memories," Fushou smiled awkwardly. "It's been three years but living without memories… it's not easy. I would rather remember who I am."

"Even if that person is completely different from you?" Shindo asked thoughtfully.

"It would still be me, wouldn't it?" Fushou asked, looking at him. "Do you think that… I really am this Sai you knew?"

"You look enough like him to be him. You even have his hair," the Go-professional smiled, reaching to Fushou's back and taking hold of the lengthy braid. Oddly enough, Fushou didn't feel bothered in the least that the man was touching his hair, though usually it felt like a violation. "It's pretty rare to see hair this length these days," the man murmured. "Tell me, have you tried playing Go?"

"No… not really. I hadn't even thought of it before seeing your picture," Fushou admitted.

"Well, that might be one way to find out whether you're my Sai or not," Shindo said, hopping to his feet. "Let's play Go. We can do it at my apartment, it's not far from here and no one would bother us there."

"But… I don't know how," Fushou murmured his fingers tightening around the fan's ribs and wishing he could bring it up to hide his face and his blush of embarrassment. "I did read few articles about it, but it didn't make sense to me."

"Trust me, if you're my Sai, you'll know the game," Shindo smiled confidently. "Come on."


	2. Six Fans on the Wall

"Sorry about the mess," Shindo said as they came into his apartment, which was on the fourth floor of a nearby apartment complex. "I'm not here very often and whenever I am, I'm always busy so I tend to leave the cleaning for my off days. Just kick aside anything that gets your way…"

Fushou looked around nervously. It was… a really expensive looking place, at least in comparison to the cheap place he lived in. This apartment looked like it did not only have more than a few rooms, but a few bedrooms, a huge kitchen, a private balcony… he could almost imagine Shindo having an ofuro in his bathroom! Did playing Go really make… this much money? The place wasn't really that messy either. The hall was clean, and the only mess there was in the living room were the few papers and magazines lying on the floor.

"I'm getting a drink. Do you want anything?" Shindo asked while heading to the kitchen, which had been separated from the mixed living room and dining room by a counter. "I have juice, some soda, tea if you'd like… Hmm… I'm out of beer…"

"I'm fine, thank you," Fushou assured awkwardly while removing his coat, mindful of the fan he was still holding. Why Shindo hadn't asked for it back, he had no idea, but it was oddly comforting to have the item in his hand. Opening the fan partially and then closing it, he continued looking around. There was a bookshelf in the room, full of what looked like books about Go. Not far from it, next to the large windows that reached from the floor to the ceiling, sat a tall Goban with a cushion at each side. Fushou looked at it for a moment before his eyes landed on the frames hanging from the wall. He tilted his head in confusion at them. To him they looked just like lot of black and white dots on a grid. _'Odd sort of thing to hang on a wall… maybe it some sort of abstract art?'_

"They're Kifu," Shindo said while returning from the kitchen, now holding a can of soda in his hand. "Records of Go-games. The first is the Ear Reddening game, played between Honinbo Shusaku and Inoue Genan Inseki in eighteen forty six. The second is a game played by Sai against Toya Akira in the year nineteen-ninety eight, back when Toya was still twelve. It was the first game I saw Sai play. The last one is a game Sai played against the former Meijin title holder, Toya Koyo who is Akira's father, in the year two thousand and one."

Fushou frowned, looking at the frames again. They still looked like abstract art to him. He had seen Kifu before; didn't they usually have numbers in them? These pieces didn't, only showing black and white dots. "If… I can understand the last two games," he murmured. "If he… if Sai was important to you, then… but, um… the first one?"

Shindo chuckled while walking forward. "It's hard to explain," he said while sitting down in a comfortable position before the Goban, which was sitting by the large windows of the living room. "I suppose it could be called inspiration, or something like that," he took a sip of his drink, looking at Fushou over the can before lowering it to the floor. "Come here," he said, motioning to the cushion on the other side of the Goban.

"I don't… know how to play Go, I've never tried," Fushou murmured awkwardly but took a few steps forward.

"If you've never tried it then of course you don't know. Come on. The stones won't bite you," Shindo assured with a chuckle and awkwardly Fushou sat down on the cushion, first trying Shindo's casual cross-legged position before shifting into seiza, which felt more comfortable. "That's it. Do you know nigiri?" the professional player asked while taking the bowl beside the Goban and checking the stones inside. They were white. "I'll take a handful of these and you guess the number. If you think it's even, you take two black stones and place them down, and if you think it's odd, you place down one stone…"

"I… don't know what you expect from me," Fushou murmured despairingly but took the bowl and grabbed two stones from it. They felt odd in his hand.

"If you're Sai, there's nothing better than this to make you remember," Shindo assured him while placing the handful of white stones down. "And even if you don't, then I should still be able to tell…" he leaned forward to count the stones. "Hmph. Even. I'm white, you're black, you get to go first."

Fushou sighed, placing the two black stones back to the bowl and looking at it for a moment. He almost missed the bow Shindo gave him and the murmured "onegaishimasu", but managed to catch them in time to feel momentary panic and then hastily mimic them. "Sorry," he murmured embarrassedly when Shindo gave him an amused smile for the slip. "I've never done this before. I have no idea…"

"Go on," the other man chuckled. "Place the first stone."

"I don't know where!" Fushou murmured, but took one of the stones into his hand, looking at it. It felt cold and unforgiving, almost as if it could sense his incompetence. "I know nothing about this game! I don't see why you think --"

Shindo gave him an almost indulgent look. "Just place the stone down," he said. "Come on, _Fushou_. It's not that hard."

Fushou frowned, for a moment wishing he could've felt familiarity towards any other person except this one. Despite the first impressions, Shindo was rather… mean. Sighing with exasperation, he placed the stone awkwardly to the board, not even sure where he was supposed to place it. He looked up to Shindo, expecting to be rebuked for the move. But Shindo was no longer looking at him, all his attention was on the board. "Shindo-sensei?"

"Komoku, hm? Good, very good," Shindo murmured, seeming insufferably satisfied as he took a white stone and placed it down near the upper corner of the board. He glanced up to Fushou and smiled. "Keep going."

Fushou sighed, but did as ordered. Shindo nodded with satisfaction again, making the other feel slightly annoyed. He was just placing the stones down randomly, why was Shindo so satisfied? Couldn't the man see he had no idea what he was doing? He couldn't really be putting some mysterious meaning into the random moves? Fushou could've been throwing the stones down randomly for all he knew, to him it really made no sense what so ever…

But it seemed to make sense to Shindo, who was now so concentrated on the board that he wasn't speaking. The first few moves turned into the first ten moves, then the first fifty moves, and suddenly the board was full of stones. Fushou shifted awkwardly. He was getting numb, sitting there for so long, and the atmosphere had gotten awkward. He was just placing the black stones where they seemed to fit on the almost full board, yet Shindo seemed more and more exited as the game went on. It… really couldn't be even called a game, could it?

"Shindo-sensei?" he asked when the other hadn't placed his stone down for several minutes and the silence had become unbearable. "What…?"

"Hm?" the professional glanced up before straightening his back. "Yeah," he murmured almost as if in agreement to something Fushou hadn't even said. "You are my Sai."

"I am?" Fushou asked disbelievingly.

"You can't see it?" Shindo asked, motioning to the board. "I lost. Here, see?" he motioned at something on the board. "You cut me here when I tried to connect. A big loss for me, but I figured I could still do something, take this cluster here. You mercilessly cut me off again. You have that tendency," he chuckled. "I lost twenty - no, it's more than that - I lost thirty four moves ago, but I wouldn't give up."

"You're… joking, right?" Fushou murmured, looking at the board with confusion. "It… it makes no sense to me," he murmured. To him it looked like an utter chaos of stones.

"Yeah, it does," Shindo assured with a smile, taking one of the stones and, for some odd reason, throwing it at Fushou's chest. "Your heart knows this stuff through and through. Your hand knows it. Look at the way you're holding the stones! Do you have any idea how long it took me to learn to hold the stones like that?" He took another stone and threw it at Fushou who quickly backed away from further abuse. Shindo gave him a fondly infuriated smile. "You're such a jerk, Sai. You wouldn't even give me a chance."

Fushou didn't quite know what to say to that. He glanced between Shindo and the bowl of stones to see if he was going to be stoned again, before shifting back to the cushion. "Did I really… defeat you?" he asked worriedly. "That sort of thing… I mean. I don't even know this game…"

"The subconscious is a powerful thing then, I guess," Shindo murmured, leaning his chin on his palm before looking down at the board. "I'll show you," he then said before starting to clean the board. Fushou quickly moved to help, putting all the black stones back to his bowl, though he was confused as to why Shindo was cleaning the game.

Then the professional reached for the bowl of black stones and started to place the stones back on the board, stone after another. Fushou watched, soon realising that the man was remaking their game. "Here," Shindo said after replaying about seventy hands. "This battle here. You won this section of the board. I thought I could reclaim it a little later - here, I thought this was an opening I could use. But you see, here...."

Fushou listened as the other tried to explain the game. He now got the impression that they were playing for territory or something like that, but it still didn't make much sense. He sighed after a moment, scratching the side of his neck. "I don't understand it," he said. "I'm sorry."

"It's okay," Shindo murmured with a smile. "You know, I always wondered how I'd fare against you these days. I've learned a lot, it's been ten years after all, but I suppose I'm still nine hundred and ninety years too early to compete with you…"

"What?" Fushou asked confusedly.

Shindo laughed, shaking his head and standing up. "You want something now?" he asked. "I, for one, am starved."

"Huh?" the other asked and then realised that he had gotten thirsty somewhere along the way. Confusedly he glanced around before looking up to a nearby clock. "What?" he asked with disbelief, looking between the Goban, Shindo, and the clock. "We've played for two hours?! Your clock must be broken."

"It isn't," Shindo assured and threw a wink at him. "Time flies when you're having fun, huh?" He laughed at the look Fushou gave him. "Never mind. Come on. You must be hungry too. I'll fix us something to eat."

Fushou sighed and followed the other man to the kitchen, awkwardly sitting by the counter separating the two rooms, while Shindo went to check his - very nice and new looking - fridge. After a moment of consideration, Shindo started pulling out some food items while Fushou looked around, taking in the kitchen. There was a Go-related magazine sitting on the counter. And there was a pile of game records next to it, along with some paper with game patterns drawn on it, and a few ball point pens. There was also what looked like a broken mobile phone and a charger lying in a basket nearby, along with some change, a deck of cards and two broken Go-stones.

 _'For a bachelor pad - or at least I think Shindo's single - this place isn't bad…'_ Fushou mused, blinking slightly at a collection of six fans which had been hung on the kitchen wall, all white, all similar, but all with different degrees of tear in them. Then he looked down to the fan he was still holding and raised his eyebrows. Maybe the one he was holding was a new version of the ones which had been hung on the wall?

"One for each dan level. Every time I rose in rank, I got a new fan," Shindo answered without looking up from the food he was making. "The one you have is naturally the seventh."

"Ah. I see," Fushou murmured, opening the fan. It was in pretty good shape. Maybe Shindo had risen in rank recently? "Is everything in your apartment symbolic somehow?" he asked confusedly.

Shindo laughed. "I suppose some of it is," he murmured, glancing at the fans on the wall and shrugging his shoulders. "We're all metaphor maniacs, us Go players. And we all have our habits, our beliefs, our idols - our religions if you will. Well, most of us. Some of us."

"Sai for you?" Fushou asked shyly.

"Sai for me," Shindo agreed. "You're fine with fried rice and fish, right? I have some shrimp here too, though it's an unopened packet, I was hoping to save it later…"

"Fish and rice is fine," Fushou answered and then watched how Shindo threw the pre-cooked rice along with some fish and vegetables to the frying pan. "You cook often?" he asked. He himself wasn't too good at cooking, mostly because his stove made odd sounds and he was terrified of the thing, so usually he bought microwave dinners and bento which were, in the end, cheaper than cooking anyway.

"When I have the time. Usually I just eat out. There's a _great_ ramen place nearby, it was opened just two years back - they serve the best miso ramen I've ever had…" the man trailed away while reaching for his spice shelf and started to add some spices to the food. "Though I suppose the sushi place isn't bad either - there's a good takoyaki place nearby too…"

Shindo's babble cut off at the sound of buzzing coming from his jacket. The man fished out his phone and answered the call, casually stirring the food all the while. "What do you want?" he asked almost unpleasantly, making Fushou raise his eyebrows with confusion. "What, really? I completely forgot, I was busy… Yeah, yeah, I'm sorry… Come on, we meet up almost every day, you can't expect me to - what, now? No way. I have a guest… Yeah, it kind of is… listen, can I call you back later? Like maybe at the end of the month? Or the year?" Shindo laughed. "Yeah, yeah, fine. I'll call you tomorrow - no, wait, aren't you one of the pros' who're going to the festival on the weekend? You're going to have a game on stage with that little sixth-dan with the hair - what's-his-name… Right, him. Anyway, I'll be there giving Shidou-Go, so I'll see you then?" the man waited for a moment before lowering the phone and frowning at it. "Huh. He hung up on me. How rude."

"Did you have something else you were supposed to be doing?" Fushou asked awkwardly. Had he messed up the man’s schedule?

"It's nothing important. Toya and I meet almost every day of the week anyway, he can take a bit of disappointment," Shindo laughed, pushing the phone into the pocket of his jeans while continuing to look after the food. "I'll see him soon. He'll be grumpy about it, but he'll get over it."

Fushou frowned, hoping he hadn't caused any inconvenience. Shindo didn't seem to think so, but the man was proving out to be a bit weird, so that could mean pretty much anything. Sighing, Fushou remained silent until Shindo finished making the food. Taking a trivet, he placed the frying pan on the counter before going around fetching bowls for them to eat from, along with getting a salad to go with the rice, some cold sauce, and something to drink.

"So, you said you live in Setagaya," Shindo said while motioning him to take some of the food. "You have a job there too, right?"

"Yeah, I, uh… It's nothing fancy. Without much education and no proof of any I might have had, I can't do much," Fushou murmured. "I work as an assistant in a department store. Today's a day off."

"Department store…" Shindo looked almost shocked. "Really… that doesn't fit you at all!"

Fushou blushed. "Well… it's pretty much as good as it's going to get," he muttered embarrassedly while glancing at the salad bowl. Shindo pushed it closer and awkwardly Fushou took some. "It pays the rent anyway, so it's good enough."

"If working at a department store pays your rent, your house must be pretty small," Shindo murmured, glancing around in his large apartment while Fushou ducked his head in embarrassment. Then the Go-professional turned his eyes to Fushou, giving him an odd look. "You should move in with me."

"What?!" Fushou asked with shock, almost falling from his seat. "You can't just… I couldn't… how can you… we just met!"

Shindo chuckled, leaning his chin to his palm while gathering some of the rice to his chopsticks. "You're my Sai," he said amusedly. "We lived together ten years ago, pretty much. For years even."

"I met you just today!" Fushou said back before giving the other a suspicious look. "You and… and Sai, were you…?"

Shindo grinned almost delightedly. "I was twelve when we met!" he said, eyes wide and twinkling with mirth. "You pervert!"

Fushou flushed up to the roots of his hair. "That's not… I didn't…!" he tried to say, only making the other man laugh. "You're mean!" he accused, sitting down with a huff before frowning. "Wait, ten years ago… I couldn't have been much older than you," he murmured. "How old are you?"

"Twenty five," Shindo answered, raising his eyebrows.

"And you were twelve when we met. I'm about twenty seven… so I was fourteen when we met?" Fushou asked thoughtfully.

"Hmm… who knows? I imagine things like that get a bit crooked with stuff like this," Shindo murmured, making absolutely no sense whatsoever. "Well, I suppose that doesn't matter. I was serious though. About you moving in with me. I don't like the idea of you living in some tiny apartment and working in a department store of all things."

"Where do you expect me to work then?" Fushou asked with disbelief and confusion. "I'm… I don't know exactly what do you think I am, but I'm _not_. And I can't trust some stranger I just met, even if the person knows me from before! And why would you let me live with you anyway, wouldn't I just inconvenience you?"

"You're _my Sai_ ," Shindo said with a frown. "Of course you wouldn't inconvenience me."

"I don't remember _being_ Sai," Fushou frowned. "If I ever even was him. I might look like him --"

"You _are_ him," Shindo said with certainty, pointing his chopsticks towards the Goban. "Of all the people in the world playing Go, only Sai, no else in any period of time, could play that game. It's _Sai's_ joseki, his perfect mastery of the age old wisdoms of Go mixed with modern ideals and idealism. No one else has Go like that, not even me and I probably have the hand most similar to that one. That is Sai's. _Yours_. No one else's."

"And that's… enough?" Fushou asked confusedly, glancing at the Goban. "Even if I can't remember?"

"You know that much. I have confidence in you; you'll remember the rest. You are Sai after all," Shindo said, turning to his food. "For ten years I thought you were dead," he admitted softly. "It's a miracle that you're back, so I think I shan't look the gift horse in the mouth just yet. You're here. For now that's more than enough."

"I could walk out and never come back," Fushou said cautiously. "What then?"

"Could you really?" Shindo glanced up.

Fushou stared at him steadily for a moment before lowering his eyes. _'No. No, I doubt I could,'_ he thought with a sigh. Shindo was odd, pushy, and there was something about the whole thing which felt a bit off, but… Shindo knew him. And while Fushou was steadily starting to feel jealous of this mysterious Sai he had apparently been… being known was wonderful.

"I won't move in with you. The whole idea is ridiculous," he said awkwardly.

"Well, I suppose that's fine for now. I'm going to give you my key though, I think," Shindo said, getting up from his seat. "And phone number. Email too - do you know how to use computers? No, I don't imagine you can… anyway, key, phone number - and you're welcome here anytime --"

"You can't do that!" Fushou said quickly. "You can't just… what if I am a robber or something?"

"Are you?" Shindo asked amusedly while rummaging through his cupboards in search of an extra key.

"Well, no, but that's beside the point! You can't just trust me like that, it's… illogical."

"It isn't," Shindo said while pulling out a keychain with triumph. He struggled one of the keys out of the ring before returning to the table and placing it down. "You're Sai. There's no one I'd trust more. Here."

"I can't take it," Fushou said, feeling awkward now. Just what kind of relationship had Shindo and Sai had if Shindo could do a thing like this without a second thought? "You're… you're insane, offering me this."

"Maybe it'll make more sense once you remember," Shindo said, taking the key and reaching to drop it to Fushou's chest pocket. "There," he said triumphantly and leaned back. He grinned while Fushou gave him a look. "So, you have a phone, right?"

Fushou ended up giving his phone number and his email - which he only knew how to use through his phone - and in return Shindo did the same. Fushou also ended, against his better judgement, adding Shindo's apartment's key to his key ring, all the while wondering if the professional Go player was insane or just overly trusting.

"What an odd man you are," he murmured to himself while eyeing the key ring.

"Learned from the best," Shindo smiled brightly.

"I don't even want to try and figure out what you mean by that," Fushou sighed while pushing his now empty bowl away. "Thank you for the food, Shindo-sensei, but I think I should be going now…"

"Hikaru," the other said. "Call me Hikaru. And… do you really have to go so soon?"

"Well, I suppose I don't have to, but this meeting… has become problematic," Fushou sighed while standing up. "I need to… gather myself. You, this… wasn't quite what I was expecting."

"I suppose," Shindo sighed while standing up. "I didn't mean to freak you out."

"No, no. I just need to think about this," Fushou answered, glancing down at the dishes. "Do you need help with…?"

"No, don't worry about it. I'll take care of them later," Shindo said, walking around the counter. He stepped closer to Fushou, taking the fan from the table. "I will see you again, right?" he asked, holding the fan for Fushou to take. "I will call you later, and probably send you an email, but…"

Fushou sighed, glancing between the fan and Shindo. It was problematic, the whole thing, but he knew that now that he had this lead on his old life, his lost memories, he wasn't about to let them go. "Yes," he said, accepting the fan - and pondering all the while just what it meant to accept it. "I… have a day off this coming weekend - oh, though didn't you say you had a, uh, festival then? Um... maybe next weekend…"

"The festival only lasts from Saturday to Sunday. I could see you Friday evening, I'm free then… We could have a dinner maybe?" Shindo suggested. "Please?"

Fushou hesitated before sighing. "Alright then," he said before realising what the suggestion sounded like. "Um… do you mean… going… out?"

"I meant here, but I can take you out, if you want to," Shindo grinned, tilting his head to follow Fushou, who quickly ducked his head as he blushed. "You wanna go on a date, Sai? I can do that. I can _definitely_ do that. I know some good restaurants - though I suppose most of them are cheap ones. I need to ask around to find a really nice expensive place to take you…"

"You're impossible," Fushou murmured, turning away from the man embarrassedly. "Are you…? Um, that is… this sort of thing…"

"No, it's just you," the other man chuckled, nearly startling Fushou out of his skin by wrapping his arms around him. "I'd do anything for you, Sai."

Fushou shivered, standing in the other's embrace stiffly and awkwardly. _'This is… really quite more problematic than I suspected,'_ he mused with trepidation. "Um… I think I'd prefer it here," he said quickly. "I mean, I'd rather have dinner here, and not out at some restaurant."

"Alright," Shindo chuckled, letting Fushou go from his embrace. "It's a date then."

Fushou sighed, shaking his head and quickly moving away from the other. "Really, really problematic," he murmured while heading towards the hall to get his coat and shoes. Shindo followed him with a chuckle, hands casually in his pockets as if his suggestions hadn't been anything out of the norm. "You really are a weird man, Shindo-sensei," Fushou said.

"Hikaru. Having you call me Shindo-sensei sounds just plain weird," the other corrected again, leaning on the doorframe while Fushou slipped his feet back into his shoes. "Did you come here by train?" he then asked. "I could give you a lift home."

"Ah, no thank you, I think I can manage," Fushou answered quickly, giving the other an awkward smile - or maybe a grimace. "Thank you for the offer though."

"Well, if you're sure," Shindo answered, looking him up and down.

Fushou glanced at him before pulling his coat on with a sigh, wishing he could tell the other to stop staring. "Thank you for today," he said instead. "It was… enlightening."

"I hope so," the other said.

"Um…" Fushou hesitated, glancing at the fan in his hand and then up to Shindo. "Good… bye, then?" he asked cautiously.

"Goodbye, Sai," Shindo sounded almost sad now, even though he was smiling. "It was… really good to see you again."

The other nodded and smiled slightly. "Yes, yes it was. Thank you, Shin - no, Hikaru. I'll see you on Friday."

"You'll hear from me lot sooner than that," Shindo grinned, lifting his mobile phone in indication.

"I'll… look forward to that, then." Fushou nodded awkwardly before opening the door and, finally, excusing himself. After closing the door behind him, he hesitated just long enough to hear Shindo's sigh and whisper through the closed door.

"He's back, he's really back. Thank you, god… thank you, thank you, thank you…"


	3. The Yellow Fan

"Since I gave you my seventh fan, do you think I should get a new one? Or maybe continue using the sixth one? I kinda feel odd without one. Hey, do you have a fan at all? Aside from the one I gave you…" was Shindo's first email to Fushou. Before Fushou managed to even answer it, he had gotten another one. "You know, never mind. I think I'll get a new fan. No offence, but white fans never really suited me. It was always more your thing, you know… I was always almost getting the white fans dirty anyway. Hmm… maybe I should get one with colour…" and then not much after that one, came the third message. "I know, I'll get a yellow fan and draw 5 on it. It'll be awesome!"

And so they went. Shindo didn't even seem to care that Fushou hadn't gotten the chance to answer, as he sent his rapid-fire messages. Fushou had to admit, he wasn't sure what to think about it. On one hand he was a bit exasperated - the man could at least give him a moment to answer or tell him to shut up, though of course he wouldn't. He got messages really rarely, and to be getting them now, so often… it was rather nice. It was almost somehow amusing how Shindo could babble through a textual message.

The first message Fushou managed to send back was after Shindo's sixth one, and mostly it took so long because despite having a phone for two years now, he still didn't know how to use it properly. "Hikaru, don't you have anything more important to do?" he asked in the message. "And why would you paint the number five to your fan?"

The answer came back immediately. "Something more important than you? Don't be stupid. And 5 is sort of like my thing. I used to be on soccer team when I was younger, and my number was 5 in it, and since that I kind of worn it all the time. Besides, five, Go… it should be obvious."

Shindo had managed to send two more messages, one detailing his time as a soccer player back when he had been a fifth grader, and one detailing all the items he had the number 5 on. It included mostly clothes, along with two pairs of sneakers, one coffee cup and a pencil case. "So everything is really about symbols with you," Fushou answered, typing his message slowly and awkwardly. "How about the bleached bangs?"

"Personal style! Goes great with yellow shirts!" The message was enhanced by a smiley face.

And so on. The messages were friendly and casual, mostly about things that hardly even mattered. Still there was something warm about them, something oddly comforting. Without the man's confusing, distracting presence there to bother Fushou and drive him into embarrassment, the messages were somehow flattering. To have someone he hardly knew, talking so casually with him…

It was only matter of time before Go itself got into the mix - only a matter of a few hours, actually. Shindo sent him a link to a program he could download to his phone, along with lengthy instructions on how to do it. Grudgingly Fushou did as asked, and after an hour of fighting against his phone, he found himself registered on the site where the program was from and then with a miniature nine by nine grid on the screen of his phone. Not much after, he got an immediate message from someone nicknamed simply _5_.

"That man…" he muttered with irritation, but accepted the challenge. While sipping his evening tea and then getting ready for bed, he played the mini game of Go with Shindo, struggling a bit with the controls at first, but getting the hang of it eventually. The game itself remained a mystery, but apparently he still managed to win the game, if the program could be trusted. Shindo immediately challenged him again, but Fushou determinately logged out from the program.

"Why not?" Shindo sent him quickly afterwards, with a sad smiley face at the end of the message.

"I'm going to bed now," Fushou answered. "I have work tomorrow."

"Ok. I'll bother you again tomorrow. Good night, Sai."

Sighing with a mixture of relief and amusement, Fushou placed the phone beside his alarm clock while sitting down on his bed. "Troublesome man," he murmured, scratching the side of his neck with amused confusion, before checking that his braid was secure and ducking underneath the covers. "Mm… better," he murmured, stretching himself into a comfortable position.

Was this how this… association with Shindo Hikaru would be? Constant messaging, playing a game he didn't even understand, and occasional meetings? Though the meeting with Shindo hadn't been as bad as he had suspected, it still hadn't been exactly… easy. He had hoped that Shindo might've been a childhood friend or something like that, but the man's suggestions… Shindo certainly seemed to be up for more than that. Fushou wasn't quite sure what to think of that.

Blushing at the idea of being in a relationship with someone like Shindo, Fushou pulled the covers over his head. _'Well, Shindo isn't bad, just…'_ he frowned. He wasn't… against the idea. Or he didn't seem to be. Did it mean that the person, this Sai, he had been, had been gay? It was one concept he had never considered, even if the many suggestions and invitations by his co-workers had never interested him. Shindo was a good looking man when he thought about it, which made the whole thing a bit more embarrassing.

 _'Maybe… I am like Shindo… Maybe it's that, it's just him… that I'm interested in?'_ he wondered, peeking out from underneath the covers. Maybe the person he had been before losing his memories, maybe Sai had been… in love with Shindo? _'Well, that isn't a thought I hadn't considered before…'_ He had often wondered if the past-him, the one who remembered, if he’d had relationships, loved ones - maybe even a lover. Fushou knew that he was a good looking man. The propositions he got… they made it painfully clear. So it hadn't been a thought he could rule out, but… a man?

 _'Shindo gave me the key to his apartment,'_ he thought embarrassedly, glancing at the phone on his bedside table. What was he supposed to think about _that_? It was an act of trust obviously, but people only gave their keys to… to certain sorts of people with whom they had certain sorts of relationships. "This is making my head hurt," he muttered, ducking again completely under his bedcovers. _'I'll sleep on it. Maybe I'll know what it means tomorrow.'_

With a sigh he settled down and closed his eyes tightly. It took him a while to fall under, as the thought of Shindo kept bothering him for a long while, but once he finally did he saw dreams of starlit skies and about arguing with Shindo Hikaru about umbrellas and moon landings. He woke up feeling badly rested and with no better understanding over the situation than in the previous day.

Shindo did as he promised, and continued his rapid-fire messaging during the following day. It would've been annoying if Shindo's messages hadn't been so amusing. Fushou almost had fun as he fought to keep up with the man as Shindo bounced from talking about the newest issue of Go-weekly to something about some friend from the Go Association of his with whom he usually played MobileGo and then grumbling about his rival, who despite their arrangement, had burst into his apartment around noon to demand a game. He spent one full message complaining about Toya Akira's hair, for some reason, adding; "Sometimes I just want to pull it up in pigtails to make him see how ridiculous it looks!" to the end of the message.

"You don't like long hair?" Fushou sent back during his coffee break, touching his loosely braided knee-length hair self-consciously.

"I like yours," came back almost instantly, soon followed by, "Toya's hair isn't long anyway. It's this sort of unnatural marriage between a bowl cut and something a deranged Gothic Lolita would think up."

And so on and so on. Thanks to it, Fushou got a lot of questions at his work place about whether he had finally gotten a girlfriend since he was suddenly glued to his phone, which was something he could've gone without, to be honest. Though he had been working in the department store for a while - almost a full year - he wasn't overly friendly with his co-workers. It was probably because they were mostly females and their personal issues and endless gossip was something he didn't quite understand - nor did he want to understand it, really. Having them hovering about him when he was reading Shindo's emails during lunch and coffee breaks… it was uncomfortable.

By the time Friday came, Fushou had gotten no less than forty eight emails from Shindo in total, learned the names of some of Shindo's friends and rivals and played eight games of MobileGo - and won all of them. Shindo hadn't called him for some reason during that time, but Fushou figured it might be just because the man simply preferred not to - there were a lot of people who only used their phones to access the 'net and never used them to make phone calls, after all. _'Though he did answer the call from that Toya person…'_ but in the end it was fine, as Fushou had trouble getting adjusted to the fact that he was getting so many messages anyway. Phone calls would've been worse.

However, Friday brought the dilemma of the dinner. The first meeting with Shindo had been, despite everything, easy because he hadn't known what to expect. Well, he had fretted about it for a few days naturally and even gone and bought a new coat and pants for it, but he had still mostly worried about making a bad impression, or about bothering the man - not about whether Shindo had romance in mind or something else. That was nerve wracking in its own right.

 _'Well, now I know a bit about what he's like, so I don't… need to worry about that…'_ Fushou murmured while pacing the space between his table and bed, trying to not think about what he was supposed to wear. _'He seems like… a casual guy and… and he knows me, or what to expect from me - or… doesn't actually expect anything from me…'_ he frowned. _'Probably anyway. He knows I have amnesia, he knows I don't understand Go or anything to do with it, so… he can't expect me to suddenly understand it all… unless he expects my memory to return…'_

What Shindo did or did not expect, fancy clothes probably weren't included. Shindo dressed very casually, after all. _'Unless he's actually planning some romantic dinner… that could be… awkward…'_ Fushou mused, trying to think what the Go-professional looked like in a suit, and failing completely. He snickered softly. _'Him trying to look formal with the hair he has… that could be amusing…'_ Especially if Shindo had already made his yellow fan with the number 5 on it.

After a moment of thinking, Fushou fell to sit on the edge of his bed with a sigh. He had gotten more comfortable with Shindo through the emails and the games of MobileGo - to the point of having casual, even funny dreams about the man - it would probably be different when he met the man again. Did Shindo really intend to make the meeting a date? He had never been on one, so he had no idea what to do about it. _'Well, I still promised. Shindo even gave me his key. I… shouldn't let him down…'_ he thought, but it didn't help much.

He kept fretting about it - and even changed his shirt tree times before settling for a dark red button up shirt - before Shindo finally made the choice for him. "When are you going to be here?" the man emailed him. "And do you want to eat before, or after some Go? Because if you wanna eat first, I'll start throwing something together now so that it'll be ready when you get here…"

Fushou sighed before chuckling helplessly. Shindo wanted to play Go. "Figures," he murmured. _'Well, I suppose it's relieving,'_ he mused. _'Maybe that means he's not expecting something… else.'_

"I'll get going soon - and I'm fine eating later on," he slowly wrote before frowning. "Should I bring something?" he added at the end, wondering if he should get a bottle of wine or something like that.

"Only your charming self!" Shindo sent back immediately, the cheery smiley face in the message making Fushou chuckle again through a light blush. Shaking his head, the man pushed his cell phone into his pocket before heading to his bathroom to brush and re-braid his hair before going.

Thankfully he remembered the right apartment building, the right floor and there found the right door by the name plates. Of course there was quite a deal of worrying along the way and hesitation at many corners, but eventually he did get to his destination. There he only had to ring the doorbell once before Shindo opened the door, balancing his phone between his shoulder and ear and holding a magazine in other hand. The man motioned him to get in with a grin while talking into the phone.

"… Of course I have, I got the Kifu even, it's sitting on my kitchen table, I had it faxed to me," he was saying as Fushou stepped past him into the apartment. "I know! If it hadn't worked so well, I'd have thought he was half insane, using a hand like that against Kwan! It was pretty good strategy, coming from Waya… yeah, tell me about it…"

While listening to Shindo talk on the phone, Fushou removed his shoes. _'Is he talking about Go?'_ he wondered while pushing his shoes where they wouldn't be in the way, and then opening the buttons of his coat. Kifu was a record of Go game, right? And hand was what they called the moves. Wondering who these Waya and Kwan people were, Fushou followed Shindo into the living room. _'Oh, he's cleaned,'_ the man noticed, hiding his smile behind the closed fan. There were fewer magazines around.

"…Yeah, well, if you talk to him, tell him that he's insane," Shindo said with a snort, while falling to sit on the nearest couch. "Well, then he's a successful insane person, doesn't make him any -- hey, I don't pull that sort of stunt anymore. Do I? Well, maybe a little, but against someone like _Kwan Hyun_? Okay, fine, I might -- oh, shut up, Yashiro, like you're any better…" The man glanced up to Fushou who awkwardly lingered between the hall and the living room, and smiled apologetically. "I need to go, but… you have a game in Tokyo next week, against Matsuhita-fourth-dan, right?" he said into the phone. "I was thinking we could have a bite to eat then… yeah, right. If we manage to drag Toya with us, it'll be like the good old times… Yeah… yeah, that'd be fine. Well, call me when you get here, okay? I don't have a game that day, so I should be free… unless something else comes up… Yeah, okay… yeah. Bye."

Fushou raised his eyebrows as the other lowered the phone.

"Sorry. Yashiro's a friend of mine from the Kansai Branch. We don't talk too often, so we go on and on when we do. We do play a lot of Mobile- and NetGo though," Shindo answered cheerfully and grinned up at him. "Hello, Sai! Nice of you to join me!"

"Hello, Shin… Hikaru," Fushou answered shyly. "Nice to be here, I suppose."

"What's with the door bell ringing, though?" Shindo asked, pointing to the front door. "I gave you a key. Don't tell me you lost it."

Fushou blinked with confusion before his eyes widened. "No, no, of course I didn't! But, I… can't just barge into someone else's home," he said quickly. In all honesty, in his worrying he had forgotten that he had the key at all - not that he would've used it anyway. It just wasn't polite. "I'm still not sure why you gave it to me."

"I gave it to you so that you could come here whenever you felt like it," Shindo said, pointing at him with accusing finger. "Next time you better use it. You're always welcome here so don't dare ring the doorbell again."

Fushou opened and then closed his mouth. How did the man manage to make such an open, trusting welcome seem so hostile? Don't dare ring the doorbell, that sounded almost like a threat. "I… apologise?" Fushou asked awkwardly.

"Just remember it the next time, okay?" Shindo answered, running his hand through his hair before smiling again. "So, how was your week?"

The other sighed. _'What a bipolar man.'_ "I suppose it was good enough. I… got a lot of emails, if nothing else."

Shindo grinned widely. "Really? From someone interesting?"

Fushou chuckled in answer. _'Maybe being a bit bipolar isn't a bad thing,'_ he mused.

"Speaking of emails, though," Shindo mused while hopping to his feet. "I wanna show you something. Hang on for a moment," he said, waving Fushou to sit down while he headed for another room - a bedroom apparently. A few minutes later he returned, carrying a laptop under his arm. "We've already made a bit of an impact on the 'net," the man grinned while sitting down beside Fushou and opening the device.

"Impact? How so?" Fushou asked confusedly while Shindo turned the laptop on and a few moments later logged onto the internet.

"Well, playing MobileGo is pretty much like playing NetGo - anyone with access can watch it," Shindo explained, writing MobileGo into the search bar and then opening the site. "And it so happens that I am a MobileGo partner."

"A what? MobileGo Partner? What does that mean?" Fushou asked confusedly.

"Well, it means that I get money from MobileGo - and from NetGo, too; I'm a NetGo partner, well, they're kinda the same thing anyway. Anyway, I bring more viewers and players to the sites, and the more viewers I get, the more money I get," Shindo grinned. "Of course, there's more to it than that, I write a blog on both sites, I post Kifu and stuff, I basically give inside information about the pro-world for all the world to see. A lot of young pro's do it since NetGo and MobileGo are pretty popular these days… anyway. I'm pretty well known on both of the sites and… I have a following of sorts. And they…" he opened a page and turned the computer to Fushou's direction, "have been watching us play."

Fushou blinked confusedly and leaned forward to see. It was some sort of discussion forum - and apparently all the people were talking about Go. Not only about Go, about the games between _5_ and _sai_ , Fushou's nick. They even had Kifu of the eight games they had played. "But…" Fushou frowned, glancing at the man. "They were just games."

Shindo grinned. "It's never just that with us," he said. "Besides, I'm being followed by a lot of people just because I'm a pro - well, my skill might have something to do with it too. Anyway, I play a lot of people online and the best of those games are usually analysed and talked over either on my blog or on the Mobile and NetGo forums - a good way of learning, that, and it's a hobby for some people. I usually join some of those discussions, too, whenever I have the time…"

"But I'm a nobody," Fushou said with disbelief.

"Not really," Shindo chuckled. "You beat me, and I'm a seventh-dan professional player. That definitely makes you a somebody. Also… it's not the first time _sai_ has appeared online. You were pretty famous online ten years ago, in fact. They still talk about you every now and then - and now here you are again, playing MobileGo of all things," he said. "What made you choose the nick _sai_ anyway?"

Fushou thought about it. He hadn't really even thought about it - it had simply seemed the only right name to choose. "I don't know," he answered after a moment. "It… felt right."

"I suppose it would. It was the first time you played as yourself, when you played NetGo as _sai_ ," Shindo chuckled before grimacing. "Oh, damn it… Toya and Waya are going to bite my head off when they head I've been playing MobileGo against you… I didn't even think about that. Oh, and Ogata too!"

The first time he had played as himself? What was that supposed to mean? Fushou glanced at the professional with confusion. "Why would they be mad?"

"Well… let's say we managed to frustrate them ten years ago with NetGo… they used to be pretty passionate about it, actually," Shindo grinned. "Well, I'll think about it later. You wanna check what they're saying about our games on the forums?"

Fushou glanced at the laptop screen before shrugging his shoulders helplessly. "I don't even know what happened in those games," he said awkwardly. "I don't think whatever they're saying would make much sense to me."

"So, you still don't understand it consciously?" Shindo asked while turning the computer off again.

"Well… Sometimes I…" he hesitated, trying to figure out how to put it. "When I place the stones, in MobileGo, it feels natural to place them where I do. But if I try to put them somewhere else, something stops me. It's like I… know what I'm doing without really knowing it at all. It's almost like there's a reflex stopping me from making wrong moves. Does that make sense?"

"Something in you still understands Go. It's just not your conscious mind. Maybe," Shindo said thoughtfully. "I'm not a psychologist or anything, but it might be something like that. You still have all the right knowledge and memories in you, but you don't have conscious access or awareness."

Fushou sighed, rubbing his temple. "Well, it's more than I've had before," he mused. Now he at least knew he still _had_ those memories and knowledge. "It feels rather awkward now, though. This amnesia of mine."

"Have you remembered anything at all?" Shindo asked curiously, worriedly. "Not just about Go, but about anything? You remember me? Anything we did together?"

"Unless my dreams are subconscious messages from Sai, I rather doubt it," Fushou chuckled awkwardly, before realising what he had just said and flushing bright red. "I-I mean - I don't mean it like… they're just…"

Shindo raised his eyebrows. "Dreams?" he didn't seem too inclined to pick on the double meaning this time. "What sort of dreams? About us?" he grinned now.

Fushou sighed with mixed embarrassment and frustration. "Yes, but… um, they're innocent. I mean, I dream about us arguing, mostly. I think we were arguing about umbrellas in the first dream," he shrugged his shoulders and looked away, still blushing. "It's probably nothing."

"Umbrellas?" Shindo asked thoughtfully before frowning and leaning back against the backrest of the couch. "Umbrellas, umbrellas… oh, I remember! Umbrella!" he hit his fist into his palm in triumph. "It was back when I was still an amateur and in a Go club at my junior high! It was about, um… about how some things hadn't changed even in a thousand years. Go stones and the board, umbrellas…" he grinned. "And you wouldn't believe me when I told you that people had gone to the moon."

Fushou blinked. "I… remember that…" he murmured, frowning. "You were laughing at me."

"Because you were funny," Shindo chuckled, reaching to flick a lock of hair from Fushou's face. "Have you remembered anything else?" he asked hopefully.

"Well, I have not exactly remembered… but I dreamed similar scenes," Fushou shrugged his shoulders. "Arguing about your homework - which I think I did for you - and you yelling at me because of an airplane…"

Shindo blinked. "You know, all those things happened not that long after we met," he mused. "You're remembering the first year I think… Maybe this means you'll eventually remember the rest. Although… why are you only remembering scenes which make me look like the bad guy?" he frowned, pointing accusing finger at Fushou. "We did more than argue, you know. Your selective memory is biased against me."

Fushou chuckled awkwardly, hiding his sheepish smile behind his fan. "I can't help what I remember, Hikaru," he said. "It comes by itself. I didn't even know they were memories at all."

"Hmph," the Go-professional harrumphed before giving him a look and then smiling all of a sudden. "Look at you. I knew it was the right choice, to give the fan to you."

The other blinked, glancing down at the fan. In the last few days, it had become part of his hand, making him feel like he was missing something every time he didn't have it. "I like it," he admitted shyly, lowering the fan and looking at it thoughtfully. "It almost feels like I've always had it."

"And you have," Shindo answered solemnly. "Oh, and that reminds me, want to see mine?" He grinned suddenly and jumped up, reaching to grab something from the kitchen counter. Flipping it open proudly, he displayed the sunflower-yellow fan to Fushou, it and the proud, bold number five drawn onto it. "What do you think?"

Fushou couldn't help but laugh. "It suits you," he answered, though honestly saying it was hard to tell where Shindo's fan ended and his shirt started. They were both the same colour.

"Now I have a fan that goes well with rest of my fashion sense," Shindo said with satisfaction, snapping the fan shut again. "You wanna play?" he then asked eagerly, nodding towards the Goban. "We could have a game before I start making us something to eat."

"I still don't understand the game," Fushou answered regretfully.

"Yes, yes, but _do you_ want to play?"

Fushou frowned at the other's tone of voice with confusion, looking at the Goban. It sounded like more was being asked from him than he actually could hear. "Well…" he hesitated. Go made no sense to him, but… he didn't really mind playing it. It seemed to make Shindo happy anyway. "Yes, sure. Let's play, Hikaru," he said, and stood up from the couch. Maybe playing with an actual Goban again would spark some memories.

The Go-professional grinned happily and together they sat by the Goban. "You seem less nervous," Shindo said while settling down to sit in a comfortable cross legged position. He glanced up and smiled. "Hm?"

"Well…" Fushou smiled awkwardly. "I guess so. You're still a rather strange man, Hikaru."

The other threw a grin at him as if he had been given a compliment. "Come on. Nigiri!"

They played. For the first time, Fushou tried to concentrate to the game in some other way than in that trying-to-find-the-right-space-for-a-stone way. He tried to, without getting tangled into the little moves which he didn't comprehend anyway, understand the entire game they were playing. There was something there to be understood, right? Part of him already did understand it; part of him had mastered it years ago. If only he could see…

"Is… it just me, or does the Goban look like the sky?" he murmured softly.

"I read once that the first form of Go, back when it was first invented thousands and thousands years ago, it was a form of divination," Shindo answered, placing down his stone. "That it was made keeping the night sky in mind… though some other story says that some Chinese emperor created the game to teach his dim witted son, so I don't know how much truth there is in that." he smiled. "I think it's a sky too. A starlit universe."

Fushou smiled and picked up a stone. The game was starting to look like something interesting, now. Something rather special. "It feels nice," he murmured, placing the stone down on the grid. "I don't know why, but suddenly it feels really nice… just holding these stones and placing them down."

"I imagine it would," Shindo answered with a sad smile. "You weren't able to touch them before."

"I wasn't? Why not?"

Shindo didn't answer, merely placed down his stone. "Well. That's probably something you should remember yourself," he said after a moment of silence. "By the way, I've been wondering something. You play Go, I know from experience that you are good with calligraphy…"

"Calligraphy?" Fushou asked thoughtfully. He did have good handwriting - something which had surprised him a great deal in the beginning, not because his was good, but because everyone else's seemed to be so… rough and crude. He hadn't thought to connect that with calligraphy. "I suppose I might be. What about it?"

"Well…  actually, it doesn't make much sense asking since you can't remember," Shindo murmured, tilting his head to the side in thought. "Though… you don't happen to paint, do you?"

"Paint? No, not as such. Well… to be honest, I haven't really tried," Fushou answered. "I… do draw, though. A little. Though I suppose it could be called doodling rather than drawing since I haven't ever drawn seriously." His style of drawing was rather odd, though. Old fashioned. Nothing like the commonly popular manga and such. "Is it… important somehow?"

"I suppose not, but… Go, calligraphy, painting… and playing the lute," Shindo said, counting them with his fingers. "I only learned about them after I lost you, so I never could ask if you had mastered them all. You always… well, seemed like a person who probably had."

"You mean the Four Accomplishments? Why would I try to master the Four Accomplishments, aren't those things people mastered in old times, ancient times even?" Fushou asked confusedly. "Why learn them these days?" It wasn't like such achievements were exactly valued in modern times.

Shindo glanced at him, before shrugging his shoulders. "I guess it doesn't matter. It was just a thought I had, long ago, that popped into my head just now," he said. "Interesting that you know them, though," he murmured thoughtfully. "And that they're old."

"Why is that interesting?" Fushou asked confusedly. Shindo was making no sense again.

"It just is," Shindo said with a grin, and turned his attention to the game. With a puzzled shake of his head, Fushou did the same.

The game ended up having the usual end when Shindo resigned, though Fushou got the impression that it took a bit more effort now, like some part of him was struggling, just a little. He eyed the finished game a long while, trying to figure out where the feeling was coming from. His memories, was that it? He was… starting to recall the game, or understand it, feel it, somehow, perhaps? Was that making it seem more difficult?

"Phew!" Shindo sighed, leaning back and laughing suddenly. "I think I'm gaining on you!" he said happily, leaning back until he fell to the floor on his back. "I've gotten strong in your absence, Sai! I'm still not quite there, but I'm gaining on you!" he laughed again.

Fushou frowned, glancing between Shindo and the game. Tapping his lips with his fan, he leaned forward to eye the game. Yes. He could see it now. A battle, right in the middle of the board. Hikaru had given him quite a run for the territory, before finally losing it. Fushou blinked, staring at the board harder. It was like… some mist was shifting in front of his eyes, like his eyes could finally focus. Suddenly the incomprehensible was turning clearer. He could _understand_ the game.

"Sai?" Hikaru asked, looking up. He immediately sat up. "Sai, is something wrong?"

"It's beautiful," Fushou whispered, covering his mouth with his hand in shock. "I can see it… I can _see it_. The game, it's _beautiful_!"

"You can understand it?" Hikaru asked excitedly.

"Do they… do they all look like this?" Fushou asked in amazement, looking up in awe. His eyes were drawn to the Kifu-decorations in the wall, and mesmerised he stared at them for a moment - and understood them. "I played two of those," he said, standing up.

Hikaru said nothing to that, just followed him. "You remember?" he asked, standing behind Fushou as he stared at the carefully framed games.

"No, but I can… I can see it. My hand. It's here," Fushou whispered and chuckled. "Remarkable games. I can't remember… but I can see them. My opponents. A young one, growing up, showing brilliance… I couldn't show mercy, he was too good; I needed to cut him, to make him stronger. And the lonely master, stuck on a single path, without a proper match. A… kinship," he shook his head in wonder. "A _magnificent_ game…"

He gasped, startled out of his haze when the other man suddenly threw his arms around him from behind. "Hikaru?" Fushou asked with surprise. The other didn't answer, just buried his face to Fushou's neck and held him tighter. "Hikaru, is something wrong?" he asked in panic now. "Did I… did I say something wrong? Hikaru?" Had he made the man distressed somehow?

"No," Hikaru mumbled, his voice muffled against Fushou's shirt. He was quiet for a moment, before speaking in an oddly dour tone. "You want me to back off, Sai?" he asked and, as if to fight against the mere notion, he held Fushou tighter. "I will if you'll tell me to."

Fushou blinked with confusion as the other man's warmth begun seeping to him through their clothing. After looking down at Hikaru's arms for a moment, he looked up at the games again. "I don't know," he murmured, frowning a little. The games in the frames - the abstract art of Go. Two of the games were his. "Did you miss me… Hikaru?" he asked as it finally, finally sunk in. Hikaru had his games framed on his wall. How long had they been there? Months? Years? A decade?

"Idiot. 'Course I did," the other mumbled almost sullenly, lifting his head just enough so that he could lay his chin on Fushou's shoulder. "For two months after you left, I… The only reason I could kept going on is because sometimes… sometimes my Go looked a little like yours."

Fushou swallowed. He opened his mouth, but no words came out. Hikaru had only been able to keep going on because sometimes his Go looked like his? What could he _think_ about that, not to mention about _answering_ to it? The dilemma of the key had nothing on this!

Hikaru was quiet for a while too, keeping Fushou in his embrace as they stared at the Kifu. Then he coughed awkwardly. "Um. Yeah… so, dinner?"

"Yeah, I'd like that," Fushou answered, laughing feebly. It was only then he realised he was crying, had been for a while.


	4. Snow Fan and Fire Fan

After the understanding of Go came back to Fushou, he noticed that he started to see Go everywhere. There were magazines in the stores he visited, there were several Go-salons on the streets he took from home to work, one of his co-workers even had a Kifu-printed shoulder bag which showed a game between a remarkable player and a beginner, by the looks of the pattern. But not only was he _seeing_ Go everywhere, but he started remembering it as well.

The first game against Hikaru, in the man's apartment. It had been a great game; Hikaru was a very strong player, but not a match to him. It had been nostalgic, some of the hands Hikaru had played had been both familiar and trickily innovative - whist Fushou himself had found himself falling into the old patterns of his old joseki. And the fact that he remembered that he had _old_ joseki and a _new_ one was surprising revelation in itself. Still, though Hikaru had been great, he had fallen short at the end and eventually resigned before the gap had gotten too large…

Then the eight games of MobileGo. The nine by nine grid had been a blessing and a relief in the beginning. It was smaller, the games were shorter, and there was not much choice on where to place the moves. But when he _remembered_ those games, he suddenly found that the board was too small for him, and the games had been, in their own way, unsatisfying. Of course, they had been good games, even on a small board Hikaru was a fine opponent, giving him quite an interesting match, but he would've much rather played on a full board, it seemed. The freedom of movement and the challenge of a full board, the chance of making complicated strategies… and the eventual challenge of conquering the large board. All that was missing on the tiny MobileGo grid.

Though, he had to admit, there was a certain fun in playing on a small board, he mused while playing his and Hikaru's fifteenth MobileGo game whilst walking towards his workplace. It was more casual than playing a full game, and he had to think differently. Also, the race of conquering the board and then fighting with Hikaru over the last bit of territory… it was fun.

It made him wonder what the viewers saw in their games. Even now, they had viewers, or so the counter in the corner of the screen which flickered between eighty nine and ninety three, said. It would've been amusing to see what they were thinking about the game. Fushou thought back to the discussion Hikaru had shown him and sighed with regret. He should've taken a look at it after all.

 _'Maybe I can check it at work…'_ he mused. They had a computer with internet access in the break room. Maybe he could take a look at the forums with it… if he could. Fushou sighed. The internet never had made much sense to him - he couldn't even check his email with a computer. _'Well, I suppose I could ask for someone's help with that…'_

He didn't get the chance, as he was running a little late. He only managed to barely apologise to Hikaru before changing to his work clothes and getting to work. While he worked, the phone in his pocket buzzed silently every now and then with the arriving email, but Hikaru knew by now that he could only check them at the first coffee break, so he didn't feel too bad about ignoring it.

The phone eventually fell silent, marking the moment when Hikaru headed off to work, probably to teach. From their continuous messaging, Fushou now knew that Hikaru had a deceptively busy schedule, something which he wouldn't have believed considering how often Hikaru managed to play with his phone. On Mondays the man taught Go, mostly to complete amateurs but he apparently also had the habit of frequenting the insei lessons to give the students a chance to challenge him.

 _'Being a professional Go player seems like an interesting sort of lifestyle,'_ Fushou mused while carrying a box of new merchandise from storage to the store where he crouched down to arrange it all on the shelf. _'Completely different from this,'_ he mused. He almost jolted when he felt the phone buzzing again. _'Oi, Hikaru, don't you have a job you're supposed to be doing?!'_

"Seems like you're getting popular, Fushou-kun," another worker, a brown haired woman named Sato Hiroko, chuckled while exchanging a few price tags on the shelves. "Your friend does seem to have a lot of free time."

"Hello, Sato-san. And, uh… no, not really. He just… has a loose schedule," Fushou murmured before frowning. "He should be at work now. What is that man doing…?"

Sato chuckled at the words. "A man, huh? I guess that explain why you haven't given into Maki-chan's flirting yet," she said. "Nice guy, then, this new boyfriend of yours?"

"Um, he's… not my boyfriend, really," Fushou murmured. _'Or is he? With Hikaru, it's hard to tell if he's being serious about the whole thing or not…'_ he sighed. _'Maybe I should ask him the next time we see each other,'_ he mused, before glancing up at his co-worker. "But yes. In his own way, he is nice." _'And a bit crude and rude and plain mean, but… that's Hikaru.'_

"I'm happy for you," Sato smiled. "It seems to be doing you good, having someone. You've been smiling more lately, and a smile like yours could show up more often, you know." With a wave of her hand, she headed off, leaving Fushou to continue stocking the shelf.

 _'Smiling more? Have I?'_ he wondered while finishing and standing up with the now empty box. _'Well, maybe a little…'_

When the coffee break came, Fushou didn't get the chance to check the internet as the other workers were using the computer, but he managed to get the chance during lunch break. The problem was, he had next to no idea what he was doing. _'I think Hikaru searched for MobileGo…'_ he mused, and tried. The first link the search engine offered was to World Igo Net, under which there was MobileGo Online. He clicked the lower link and was taken to a rather confusing site. _'Now, where should I go… where did Hikaru go from here…'_

"What are you doing, Fushou-chan?" Maki Hanako, who had been one of the people using the computer during the coffee break, asked. "I've never seen you using the computer. Need help?"

"Maki-san… Well, uh, if you know…" Fushou glanced up helplessly. "I'm trying to find a… discussion forum?" he more asked than stated.

"Let's take a look then," Maki murmured, leaning forward - and maybe closer than necessary. "Ah, there. It says forum, though it's in English… Anything in particular you're looking for, Fushou-chan?"

"Um. Discussions of games between the nicks _5_ and _sai_ ," Fushou answered awkwardly, shifting a bit to the side to get away from the woman's cleavage. _'I wish she stopped calling me Fushou-chan. Even Fushou-kun is better, despite the fact that I'm older than most of these girls are…'_

"Well, I could try doing a search," the woman said, now bringing her other hand into the game as well - from other side of Fushou, who was now trapped between Maki and the computer. "Now, let's see. 5 and sai…" she murmured while writing them down.

"Um, Maki-san, the _5_ is written in western numbers, and _sai_ is written in the Latin alphabet," Fushou said awkwardly, wondering if he could duck underneath Maki's arms without looking like an idiot. _'Why do I get into things like these…?'_

"Maki-chan, leave the poor man alone," Sato laughed somewhere behind them. "He's a taken man!"

"What, really?" Maki asked, looking down at Fushou. "You got a girlfriend, Fushou-chan?"

"Er, it's a boy… friend. In a… manner of speaking," he answered awkwardly, hoping that Hikaru would never hear about this. He winced slightly at the way Maki's eyes widened. "Um, the search…"

"You got a boyfriend, Fushou-kun!? Who is he, is he cute?"

"Hah! I knew our Fushou-kun was an okama!"

"I bet he's cute, no way would Fushou-kun be with anyone but someone as cute as him!"

While Fushou blushed so deeply it felt like his ears were burning, Maki sighed and backed off. "Ah, well, pity," she murmured. "But I suppose I should've known. Just hit the search button, Fushou-chan, if there are any results to be found, it should find them."

Somewhat thankful that she let go of him, and embarrassed since the entire break room was now talking about him and his supposed boyfriend, Fushou did as asked. But, in the end, the search didn't bring what he had wanted to find. Both _5_ and _sai_ were too short terms for the search function, and it demanded longer words. Sighing with disappointment, he fought to return to the forum screen in hopes that he could find some indication about where to go from there - but before he could even try, the lunch break was over and they had to return to work. Hoping to be able to continue the search at the next coffee break, Fushou memorised the site name before heading off.

He never got the chance to try. About hour after lunch break, he was called by name whilst sorting out the latest shipment. "Fushou!" It was the secretary, Kobayashi Michiko. "My office."

Fifteen minutes later, he sat alone in the break room of the department store, staring at an unforgiving piece of paper. The bold, and in his opinion rather cold, font in the top of it left him no chance of escaping the harsh reality of the paper and just what it meant. _Termination of employment_.

Drawing a shuddering breath, Fushou ran his fingers through his long bangs, trying to keep them from getting into his eyes. Apparently his work efficiency had been dropping lately and he had been using his work time for personal amusement - apparently his boss didn't appreciate the amount of time he spent "playing" with his phone. Which… was rather unfair since he had only once or twice checked the emails during work hours, usually he checked whatever Hikaru sent him during breaks… but it was still against company rules.

It didn't matter. He was _fired_. And, having experienced this once before, a year ago when he had been laid off from his first job, he knew exactly what it meant. No money for rent or electricity and water bill. Less food on the table. The hassle of trying to figure out where and how he could get a new job. And many, many sleepless nights wondering, worrying… panicking.

Taking another deep breath, he covered his eyes with his hand for a moment, trying to calm himself down. He wouldn't help himself by panicking now. _'Calm down, calm down…'_ he ordered himself. _'I… It will be tough. I don't know about the bills, but… I should have money for this month's rent at least…'_

But it helped little. He had almost gotten evicted the last time - he was on the verge of being evicted as it was. _'Why did I spend all that money on the coat?'_ he wondered despairingly, throwing a look towards the locker room. If he hadn't bought it, he still would've had the money for the water and electricity bill at least. _'Maybe… well, trying to sell it won't do me any good. Maybe if I… my phone, it's… rather new…'_ the thought trailed away. _'My phone… Hikaru!'_

Quickly he pulled the device out, before freezing mid motion. Hikaru _would_ help him. The man had offered his own _house_ to him. But… could he really take advantage of that? He shouldn't be using Hikaru like that, not even if the man was… kind and welcoming, and probably would help… though Hikaru seemed to be rather wealthy… and seemed to care for him great deal.

Fushou's hand quivered for a moment with indecision. He didn't… want to be as pitiful as to ask for help, even if he needed it. And yet… he… _'Hikaru…'_ he frowned, lowering the phone to his lap. Being helped by Hikaru… _'I… wouldn't mind it, but… I don't want to inconvenience him…'_

He closed his eyes, taking few deep breaths before remembering. _'I called him… my boyfriend… in a manner of speaking. If… if he was, this sort of thing… I should let him know this sort of thing…'_

"Fushou-kun?" familiar voice asked, and he looked up to see Sato Hiroko standing near the door. "Is something wrong?"

Fushou looked up and smiled sadly. "I… it seems I lost my job," he said, holding the paper up. "Immediate termination of employment."

The woman gasped, before walking forward and taking the paper. She spent a moment reading it. "Oh, Fushou-kun," she then murmured. "Are you going to be okay?"

"I don't know," he answered awkwardly, staring at his phone. "Maybe."

"Can't that boyfriend of yours help?" Sato asked sympathetically.

"He probably could, but I don't want to bother him," Fushou murmured.

The woman eyed him thoughtfully for a moment before folding her hands. "Have you been in a relationship before?" she asked. "In a serious one?"

 _'I'm not sure if I'm in one now, even,'_ Fushou thought awkwardly and shook his head.

"Well, usually in things like these, lovers help each other," she smiled. "It's like with me and my boyfriend. He's sick right now and can't work at all, but he's alright because I'm helping him. And maybe, one day, I'll be unemployed and he'll be helping me," she shrugged her shoulders. "That's how it usually works. If you boyfriend can help you now… maybe you can help him with something else later on."

Fushou frowned. He rather doubted it. Hikaru was so well off that he didn't need help. _'But…'_ he stared at his phone and thought back to Hikaru's reaction to him remembering Go. The man had barely been able to let him go. _'And he has my games on his walls. He has… my fans on his kitchen wall… well, they are only mine in spirit, but…'_ maybe he was already helping Hikaru - helping him with ten years’ worth of heart break. _'Which is rather awkward in its own right.'_

"We haven't been… not for a long time, I mean… we just met," he murmured uneasily. "Wouldn't it be… a bit rude?"

"Try it. Once you're back on your feet, you can pay him back," Sato smiled before glancing at the door. "I need to get back work. Are you going to be okay now?"

Fushou nodded, though he wasn't sure. He watched her leave before turning his attention to his phone again. After spending a moment in silence, he sighed, before opening the email screen. Then, thinking better, he turned it off again and sought out Hikaru's phone number instead. Then, his heart pounding so hard he could barely hear anything, he lifted the phone to his ear and waited for the other to pick up.

It didn't take long. "Yes? What is it?" Hikaru asked immediately, sounding worried. "Sai, is something wrong?"

Fushou let out a quivery breath and chuckled rather weakly. "Why do you think something would be wrong?" he asked.

"You _never_ call. Well, neither do I, but that's not the point…" Hikaru trailed away before coughing. "You know I'm working. You wouldn't call unless it's important. Right?"

"Um…" Fushou blinked and flushed. He had forgotten that Hikaru was working. _'Again. First I forget the keys, now this… I'm becoming forgetful,'_ he thought and sighed. "I was fired from my job."

" _What_?!" Shindo snapped, making him wince. "Oh, damn… that sucks. Should I come there? The class ends in half an hour; I could end sooner and come there… where are you anyway? Hey, tell me your address and I'll drive over, it shouldn't take long…"

Fushou smiled, closing his eyes and leaning heavily against the phone. _'Hikaru…'_ he thought with an odd mixture of happiness and sadness. He wanted to be polite and say Hikaru didn't need to come, that he could handle it, that he was sorry about bothering the man, that he should've waited until Hikaru's class ended… but more than that he wanted him to come. He really did, more than he cared about being polite. So, against his better judgement, he told Hikaru his home address.

"Got it," Hikaru said determinately. "I should be able to find it, if not, then I can find a map on the 'net."

"You don't need to hurry," Fushou said.

"If course I do. It's _you_ ," the other snorted before calling out to his class. "Oi, you lot. I have to go, so we're ending the class bit early!" he said and by the sound of it was awarded with few moans and whines for his efforts, but ignored them. "I'll be there in half an hour, okay?"

Fushou bowed his head and smiled. "Alright. Thank you… Hikaru."

Hikaru arrived only fifteen minutes after Fushou himself had gotten home. Fushou managed to tidy his small apartment some before the man's arrival and had spent the rest of the time nervously leafing through some old magazines and wondering if he had done the right thing, calling the man. Maybe he shouldn't have done it after all, he had caused a disturbance in his schedule… again. It was his problem, he should solve it by himself and not bother others with it…

But it was too late now. Hikaru had already ended his class and was already on the way, to tell him not to come now would just be more of an inconvenience.

And then Hikaru was already there, knocking at the door, coming in, and without giving a chance for explanations, hugging him. As the explanations and excuses and apologies died on Fushou's lips, it felt like some tension he hadn't even been aware of was drained away. Hikaru was there and warm, and it felt like it was going to be alright.

"Are you alright?" the man asked, pulling back a little but keeping his hands on Fushou's shoulders.

"I'm fine, Hikaru," Fushou assured with a helpless chuckle. "I was _fired_ , not _hurt_. I shouldn't have… bothered you with this."

"Don't be ridiculous. You're not bothering me," the man said seriously, before looking past him and into the apartment. He looked slightly shocked for a moment, before turning dark eyes to Fushou. "You," Hikaru said almost accusingly, "are really living here?"

"Umm…" Fushou blushed, glancing at the tiny apartment. "Well… yes. I know it's not much."

"It's _horrible_!" Hikaru said, shaking his head and stepping past Fushou to take a closer look. "Look at this place! It's tiny and… and smells weird! You _can't_ live in a place like this!" he looked around. "Seriously, this place doesn't suit you at all…!"

Fushou frowned. Suddenly he didn't feel so warm after all. "It's all I could afford," he murmured somewhat defensively. "And it's not like I need much, living alone as I am. It's been good enough for me."

Hikaru snorted. "Trust me, this is nowhere _near_ good enough for you," he said, giving a look of mild horror at Fushou's kitchenette before turning to look at the other. "Nope. This place… won't do at all."

"This place is _fine_ ," Fushou couldn't help but snap back. It felt like he was being judged for something he had no choice about. "I'm sorry I don't live in a nice place like you do, Hikaru, but I simply cannot afford a place like that. I'm not like you, so this place… this place is fine. It's where I belong."

Hikaru blinked with surprise before looking oddly sad. He stepped closer and touching Fushou's face. "No, Sai. _You_ belong in a palace," he said softly, before throwing a look of distaste into the place. "Let's gather your things. You're coming home with me."

"Hikaru --"

"Don't argue with me, Sai. Not now, not with this. I'm _not_ letting you stay in this heap. This place is so far below you that you can't even imagine it."

Fushou frowned, but there was something in Hikaru's words, something in his eyes, that stopped him. After a moment of hesitation he sighed and nodded. "Alright," he murmured, looking away. He didn't like the idea of living at someone else's expense, but since… since it was Hikaru… "It's not like there's much to take."

Hikaru nodded with satisfaction before aiding him in packing a bag of clothes and a few personal items and hygiene products. "We can get the rest later if you need it, though I don't think there's any use bringing any of the furniture," Hikaru murmured, giving a last look at the apartment. "We can terminate your contract here later too."

"I need to return somewhere," Fushou murmured, glancing at the man. "I can't… stay with you indefinitely."

"Of course you can," Hikaru said, before taking Fushou's hand into his right hand, the bag of necessities into his left, and more or less dragging Fushou away from the life he knew. And Fushou, despite his pride and worries, couldn't say no to it. Part of him was too ashamed. Another part was too flattered. Most of him was indecisive and just wanted to curl into Hikaru's warm hand holding his and let the man take care of everything. It was… a very odd feeling.

"Sorry I was so forceful," Hikaru said a bit later while putting Fushou's bag in the backseat of his car and motioning the other to sit down. "It's just seeing you in a place like that pissed me off."

"Yes, I could… see that," Fushou answered awkwardly. "I take it that I led… a different sort of life before losing my memories."

"Yeah, well… your _life_ was a whole lot different from this one," Hikaru muttered, throwing a look of distaste at the apartment building while sitting down in the driver's seat. "You wanna grab a bite to eat?" he then asked while putting the seat belt on. "I think I saw a pretty nice looking restaurant on my way here. I can buy. You look like you could use it."

"I suppose I could," Fushou sighed, running his hand over his face. It was becoming one problematic day. He could use some food and maybe a chance to pull himself together.

Shindo's idea of a nice looking restaurant turned out to be a ramen restaurant, but Fushou hardly minded. The place was cosy looking and the food didn't seem too expensive, so he didn't feel too guilty about letting the man pay for him. Hikaru, apparently realising that the sudden meeting had gotten a bad start, didn't raise the matter of the apartment or losing the job or even money again, and instead started to talk about Go and his class, obviously trying to cheer up the mood.

"It's pretty fun, teaching. Of course most of the people in the class are old geezers and hags, but I've gotten used to that long ago - and since I learned the basics in a class like that, it's pretty nice," he chuckled while they ate. "It's like doing a full circle. Though I hope no one like the brat I was back then shows up in my class, I don't think I could handle that."

Fushou blinked at that. "Wig," he said suddenly. "You pulled someone's wig off in a Go-class. I remember that."

Hikaru burst out to laughter. "Yeah, Akota-san!" he grinned. "He was bullying weaker Go players, you know… capturing their stones all the time, and messing with them. You thought we should play him and cut him up like that but instead I just emptied a stone bowl on his head."

"That's horrible etiquette!" Fushou muttered but couldn't help but chuckle at the memory. "The teacher threw us out. I think I whined about that."

"Yeah. I took you to a Go-event to make it up to you," Hikaru chuckled before grinning at the memory. "We got thrown out from there too!"

"Because you ruined those boys' game by pointing out a move to them while they were in the middle of a match! They had to start again because of you," Fushou nodded before frowning. "How many places did you get us thrown out of?"

"I dunno. The second time wouldn't have happened, though, if you hadn't pointed the move out to me first," Hikaru huffed. "I wouldn't have been able to see it for myself back then…"

They continued talking about the past, Fushou remembering some things they had done together, whilst others still remained a mystery. It felt nice though, to remember such casual things, even if they were old memories and hardly mattered anymore. They were enough to distract him from the loss of a job and Hikaru's sudden decision to more or less drag Fushou to live with him.

"You know, you're a bit different from back then," Hikaru murmured after finishing his bowl, giving him an odd look. "Something's… kinda missing, but I can't put my finger on what it is."

"My memories, perhaps?" Fushou answered with an amused smile.

"No, that's not it. Those are returning. Besides, I _know_ those are missing. This is something else," Hikaru shook his head. "You didn't use to wear your hair in a braid, but that's not it either." He craned his neck, leaning a bit forward. "Hmm… it's like you're a picture missing the finishing touches."

"There's no need to be rude about it," Fushou murmured, touching his hair. "Is there something wrong with a braid? How did I use to wear my hair if not on a braid? I tried a ponytail, but my hair's too heavy for it, and it keeps getting in my way if it's open…" and he hadn't wanted to cut it. The him that remembered had grown his hair so long for a _reason_ \- it took so long to just wash it that had to be a good one too. He hadn't wanted to risk disappointing himself by cutting it when there was a chance he would regret it later.

"You had it tied up near the end, but that's not it," Hikaru answered, leaning his chin on his palm and frowning. "Now it's seriously bothering me. Tilt your head a bit to the side."

"Hikaru…" Fushou sighed, but did as he was told. He even tilted it to the other side when it seemed that Hikaru still couldn't remember what it was that was apparently missing. "Is it important?"

"No, I would've remembered it earlier if it was. It's just annoying. Wait --" Hikaru suddenly leaned forward. "Keep your head like that."

"Umm…" Fushou flushed, holding still in a rather awkward position. Was Hikaru looking at his neck? "What is it then?" he asked embarrassedly. "Hikaru?"

"You can relax now," the man grinned, looking away and glancing around the store. "Ah, good," he muttered, giving a clock attached to a wall near by a look. "It's still pretty early. And I think I saw a store almost next to this place… Sai, could you hold on for a moment? I'll be right back."

"What? Wait, Hikaru? Where are you going?" Fushou asked confusedly.

"I'll be right back. Just wait for me," the man said with a grin, standing up. He stopped by the counter to pay for their food, before waving back at Fushou. "This won't take long, I promise," he assured before heading for the exit.

"Hikaru? Hikaru?!" Fushou called after him, but the man was already gone. _'He has to be the most confusing man in existence! What is he thinking now, where is he going?'_ he groaned in his mind, turning his attention forward when he noticed that some of the other customers were staring at him. _'Well… I suppose it gives me a chance to think about this… if nothing else.'_ Running his hand over his face, he sighed. _'Losing my job, being almost forced out of my apartment, now this…?'_

It was odd how losing his job suddenly seemed to be the least of his worries. Did Hikaru really expect him to _move in_ with the man? Judging by how things had gone so far, not much could come out of it. Half of the time Fushou didn't even understand what the man was _saying_ and on top of that Hikaru seemed to have an annoying habit of doing things without explaining. Even with the whole… romance which could not be one after all, the whole situation was just plain confusing.

 _'Hikaru left his fan,'_ Fushou thought, noticing the yellow fan sitting next to Hikaru's empty ramen bowl. Reaching for it, he took the fan to his hand, before flipping it open. It was almost identical to his own in design, everything else except for the colour. Blinking, Fushou brought out his own fan and compared the two. _'Hm… they are the same design. Old fashioned. Both have long ribs and the paper is fine… these fans, both of them… probably were expensive… I wonder if Hikaru got them from the same place. The six fans in his apartment are the same design as well. Why this design? Don’t fans like this break easily…?'_

Folding the two fans, he placed them to the table and stared at them for a moment. White for him and yellow for Hikaru. He chuckled as the symbolism dawned to him. _'Really… that man has odd effect on me…'_

He didn't have to wait for long, before Hikaru returned with a bright grin, holding something in his hand. "Here," the man said cheerfully, and placed a small box in front of Fushou. It took the man only a split second to realise what it was. "Just open it," Hikaru laughed at the shocked look he gave the man.

Fushou was tempted not to. It was a jewellery box, and considering that the man had suggested that they _live together_ on their _first meeting_ … He glanced at the man nervously before sighing and taking the box. Well, if Hikaru was proven insane after all, he could just say no… probably.

But it wasn't what he thought - to his great relief. Instead it was pair of stud earrings, adorned with bright red stones. "What?" Fushou murmured with confusion, looking up to the other. "Hikaru?"

"You wore earrings like those," Hikaru said, folding his hands and looking satisfied in that irritating, smug way of his. Apparently he was completely unaware of the scene they were making in the small ramen restaurant. "Now that I remember, you look weird without them."

"Hikaru, how much did these cost?" Fushou asked nervously.

"Not much. They're only rubies," Hikaru said, shrugging his shoulders and grinning. "You like them."

"I do?" Fushou asked unsurely, but looking down on them… he did like them. They were beautiful. But that wasn't the point. He closed the box determinately and handed it back to the man. "You can't just go and buy me these! And what do you mean, only rubies?!" he asked with a frown. "First with the key and now… you need to stop doing things like these!"

"No I don't," Hikaru said happily, taking the box and, in a mirror of the key incident, pushed it into Fushou's pocket. "There," he said with triumphant smile. "Don't worry. Rubies aren't actually that expensive or anything. Well then, shall we go now, Sai?"

"I don't want to go with you," Fushou sighed morosely, but reluctantly got up to his feet. "You're insane."

Hikaru only laughed at him and led him out of the restaurant, to his car and towards a new life.


	5. The Missing Fan

It was something of a relief that Hikaru had a guest room. Fushou had been for a brief moment slightly afraid that the man expected them to sleep in the same room - in the same bed - but apparently Hikaru had decided that he had been shocked enough times for one day and instead had readied the guest rooms for Fushou.

"You can put your things into the drawers and where ever you like," the man said after finishing changing the beddings to clean ones. "This room is yours now, so you can do whatever you like with it."

Fushou still hadn't quite come to terms with that. Was he _really_ now living with the man, even though they had known each other barely a week? Of course there were the past memories to consider, but those were from ten years ago. Did they really have so much weight anymore? Hikaru certainly seemed to think so, but… but Fushou couldn't remember everything yet. The memories were scattered and fuzzy and plain odd at times.

Sighing, the man looked up at his reflection, after having sought solitude in Hikaru's large - and very nice - bathroom. He had momentarily considered even taking a bath because the ofuro looked _really_ inviting and he hadn't enjoyed a warm bath in ages, but he had decided against it. He couldn't do something like that without permission after all. So instead he had merely washed his face and now was trying to talk himself into calming down.

 _'That man… is impossible,'_ he thought with determination while staring at his frowning reflection. What kind of person did things like these, offered this sort of access to a near stranger? If it hadn't been so confusing and so sudden, Fushou would've been immensely grateful, but he simply couldn't understand. Was it really because of the past? Or did Hikaru… really care about him this much? With the man being the way he was, it was difficult to tell if he was being serious or not.

Sighing with anxiousness, Fushou reached for the end of his braid and opened the ribbon there, before starting to untangle the carefully woven pattern. Sitting down on the toilet lid, he then started to slowly brush his hair, hoping that the steady repetitious motions would help him think.

 _'I suppose I have to ask him… about why he does this, and what… what he feels for me,'_ he thought. _'But even his words don't make sense at times! How can I be able to tell if he's serious or not then when nothing about him seems to make much sense…?'_ He pursed his lips with irritation. _'Though I think I can tell for sure that he… sort of… wishes the best for me. I guess that's better than being uncertain about whether or not he means me harm.'_

While wondering about it, he managed to untangle his hair completely. In his usual habit, he gathered his hair behind again before dividing it into three sections. Before he started braiding it, however, he stopped. _'Didn't he say that I used to wear my hair differently…?'_

Standing up again, he approached the mirror and eyed his hair. Down like this, it seemed even longer than usual - way too long to be practical in any way. However, he had to admit that he was rather proud of the length. How many people had hair like his? One in a hundred, one in a thousand, if even that? _'It's almost a pity to keep it in a braid all the time…'_ he mused, trailing away while pushing the longer strands of hair behind his shoulder, and brushing the shorter ones in the front into order. Then he eyed his ears thoughtfully before glancing at the small jewellery box sitting on the corner of the sink.

He had been itching to put the earrings on since Hikaru had given them to him, but had been holding back. Hikaru shouldn't have bought them anyway - even if they were only silver and the rubies were somehow low quality and apparently hadn't been _that_ expensive, they were still a lot more expensive than anything Fushou would've ever bought for himself - fancy coat aside. But on the other hand… they were so beautiful…

 _'If I don't wear them, wouldn't it be like wasting them?'_ he wondered nervously. Hikaru had already said that under no circumstances were they taking them back, so… _'Maybe if I just try them on…'_ he thought before, with a deep breath, reaching for the box and opening it.

Despite having holes in his ear lobes for as long as he could remember, he had never worn any sort of earrings, so getting the studs into the holes in his earlobes was a new and odd experience. However unlike he had suspected, it wasn't a painful one. After clicking the clutch into its place, he leaned back to look at himself. _'They're… really pretty…'_ he thought with something akin to dismay. _'I don't want to take them off…'_

"Sai?" Hikaru's voice suddenly asked from other side the locked bathroom door. "Are you okay in there? If you're taking a bath or something, I can get you a towel - I should have an extra bathrobe too, if you want one…"

"Um, I'm fine, I'm just… erm…" Fushou eyed the reflection again before shaking his head. _'Not taking them off,'_ he decided before walking to the door and opening it. While Hikaru looked at him with confusion, he touched the earrings nervously. "I… really like these," he muttered almost defensively

Hikaru raised his eyebrows before grinning. "I'm glad, Sai. They suit you," he said, reaching out and brushing strand of Fushou's hair behind his ear. "You used to have ones which looked like red pearls actually, but the shop didn't have anything like those…" he trailed away, tilting his head to the side. "Your hair is down," he sounded almost surprised.

"Yeah, I just brushed it," Fushou answered awkwardly. "I was going to re-braid it."

"I've never seen you with your hair down," Hikaru said, walking around him to take a proper look. "It's even longer than I thought," he murmured, brushing his hand down Fushou's back and making the man shiver. "Heh. And it's a bit curly. How do you wash this thing?"

"With time and patience," Fushou answered embarrassedly. "It gets a bit wavy after it's been in a braid for long, but usually my hair is rather straight…" he glanced down. "Is it… a bad look on me?"

"I like it," Hikaru answered. "You should keep your hair down more. It looks awesome."

Fushou flushed red and looked away quickly. "Maybe," he agreed awkwardly. "But it gets in the way. How did you say I used to keep it?"

"Tied near the end. Here, let me show you…" Hikaru turned away to take the ribbon Fushou had been using to tie his hair, before crouching down to the floor so that he had access to the end of the other's long hair. While Fushou turned even redder and tried to keep himself still, Hikaru gently gathered the end of the hair into his hand, before tying it near the end with a loose bow. "Sorry, I'm not good at this, it's a bit sloppy… but you used to tie it kinda like this."

Fushou blinked and glanced the mirror. It almost looked like his hair was down, except it wasn't. "It's… actually rather nice."

"Yes, it is," the other agreed, straightening up. "So, you want something to drink? I have beer now," the man grinned.

"No, I… would prefer to have some tea maybe," Fushou answered with a sigh, glancing at his reflection again and touching his ear. "Is it really okay to keep these?" he asked shyly.

"I bought them for you. What would I do with them anyway?" Hikaru asked, tugging on his own earlobe to show the lack of holes. "I don't wear earrings myself."

"Okay then," Fushou smiled. "Thank you… Hikaru. I don't think I said it before."

"You're welcome. Come on. Let's get something to drink," the other said, casually throwing his arm around Fushou's shoulders and more or less steering him out of the bathroom. Fushou noticed that the man also took a strand of his hair into his fingers and was curling it between them, but decided to say nothing against it.

 _'Heh. I suppose I don't need to worry about that anymore,'_ he mused, looking away with a light flush, before wondering if this was a good spot to ask about… about what the man felt for him, exactly. He decided against that too. He needed to figure out how to put it into words first, anyway.

"So, how do you take your tea?" Hikaru asked, while setting out to boil some water. While preparing the requested green tea for Fushou, he picked a can of beer for himself. Once the tea was ready, Hikaru waved him to follow and instead of sitting by the counter separating kitchen and living room, they sat down on the more comfortable living room couches. "Or do you want to have a game?" Hikaru asked, nodding to the Goban. "I wouldn't mind."

It was tempting, as playing Go would give him an excuse to think about something else, but Fushou shook his head against it. "Not right now," he said, taking sip of his tea. He glanced at the other when Hikaru reached for him to take the end of Fushou's hair to his hand so that he could play with the tuft at the end. "If you like it so much, why did you never grow out your hair?"

"I tried, actually," Hikaru grinned, weaving his fingers into the hair. "Didn't suit me at all. I had no idea what to do with it anyway, it kept getting in my way and since I kept bleaching my bangs I looked like girl…"

Fushou chuckled at the mental image of Hikaru with long hair. "Do I look like a girl?" he asked curiously.

"You look effeminate," the other answered with a fond smile. "It suits you."

 _'Well… I suppose that sounds promising,'_ Fushou mused, eyeing the other for a while as Hikaru continued to play with the end of his hair. "Hikaru…" he hesitated for a moment, not sure how to word the question. "Do you… I mean… this thing between us…" he trailed away, frowning. He couldn't just go and ask if the man loved him, even if that was what he wanted to know. "What is it… that you feel for me?" he finally asked, rather unsatisfied with the way it came out. "It confuses me. I need to know," he added when the other merely looked at him.

Hikaru gave him an odd smile before reaching for his beer can and taking a large swallow. Then he leaned forward and wrapped his arms around Fushou loosely. "I love you," he answered, burying his face to Fushou's neck. "I've always loved you. Never doubt that."

Fushou flushed bright red, remaining stiff in the man's embrace for a long while. "But… how? I mean, as a friend or…?" he bit his lip nervously. That was it, really. Whether Hikaru was just overly friendly or… something more.

"Hmm… I haven't really thought of that. It hasn't mattered," Hikaru answered, his words a little muffled but oddly relaxed. "I didn't even realise how important you were to me before you vanished. The months after you disappeared… I kept thinking about you every waking moment, and everything I did, I did keeping you in mind. I was already a pro back then, just a first-dan, but still a pro… and when you disappeared, I stopped playing Go. Not just professionally, but entirely. I thought that you had gone because I kept playing so much, because I was selfish and that if I wouldn't play… you'd come back," he sighed. "Those two months were the worst of my life."

Fushou swallowed. "I'm… sorry."

"Yeah, well… when I finally did play, I played against my will because a friend of mine asked, because it was important to him. And when I played… it looked a little like your Go," Hikaru chuckled, nuzzling against his hair. "And I realised if I kept playing I'd still be able to see a little part of you. And maybe… maybe that would be enough. It was for a while. Then I got the fan. Then I framed the Kifu… I never forgot, Sai. I never would've, I would've carried your fan until my death. I'm still going to."

Fushou shuddered at the symbolism in that, and closed his eyes. Hikaru made a thoughtful sound, tightening his hold of him. "I never really stopped to think _how_ I loved you," the man continued with a smile in his voice. "I just knew I did. And that I was always going to love you. Friend, lover… it's all the same to me, when it comes to you. I just _love_ you. That's all there's to it."

Fushou swallowed before turning to little towards the other. "I… Hikaru, I'm so sorry, I can't remember…" he trailed away mournfully. "I'm sorry."

"It's okay," Hikaru chuckled, turning his head just slightly so that he could look at him. He was smiling an oddly radiant smile. "And now I think I've said the L-word enough times. It's starting to get into my head."

Fushou let out a choked chuckle and tried to smile, but only managed a faint grimace. He shook his head feebly before turning to Hikaru completely and slipping his arms around the man. "I'm sorry," he whispered again. "I'm so sorry. I don't know why I left, I can't remember. I'm _so sorry…_ " he sniffled. _'I can't even remember if I loved you back.'_

"Shut up already. It's okay," Hikaru laughed, pulling back a little so that he could lean his forehead against Fushou's, his arms held tightly around the other's waist. "You're here. You're _alive_. You have no idea how happy that makes me."

"Yes, but…" Fushou grimaced sadly. Hikaru kept giving. Why wouldn't he _ask_ for something? Just once. Closing his eyes for a moment, he drew a deep breath. "Loving you," he murmured. "I wouldn't mind it." Oddly enough, despite all of Hikaru's quirks and confusing mannerisms, he really did mean it. There was something strangely loveable about the man. Something warm, albeit in a slightly uncomfortable and awkward way.

"I'm glad to hear that," the Go professional chuckled, his hands tightening their hold for a moment before he started to pull away. "But you don't need to force your--"

It happened almost by itself - and it was remarkably easy.  Before Fushou even realised, he had smothered the man's words under his lips, forcing Shindo to swallow the ridiculous notion that it was something he needed force himself to do. _'You're mean, you're crude, you're rude and you do things without asking if it's alright first,'_ Fushou thought while wrapping his arms around the other's neck. _'You idiot. Idiot, idiot, idiot…'_

"Sai…" Hikaru mumbled with a shock when Fushou finally released him. The stunned look on his face definitely made the kiss worth it.

"Idiot," Fushou said out loud. "Don't make it sound like it's a hardship. Stupid."

The other was silent for a moment before starting to laugh helplessly. "You're definitely starting to sound like my Sai," he said, drawing Fushou closer. "I've missed those dulcet tones of yours."

Fushou pouted. "I'd like to play Go now," he muttered embarrassedly.

Hikaru grinned, placing a small kiss to his nose. "Sure."

That gave Fushou the chance to calm down, but didn't prevent the eventual moment of panic when he realised what he had done - and that he still, somehow, wasn't sure if it meant they were together in a romantic sense. One could love someone, but not be together with them after all… _'No, no, not anymore, I am not thinking this anymore!'_ he thought with irritation. _'How long have I been wondering this anyway?! I'll go just as insane as Hikaru if I keep this up!'_

Pushing the thought forcibly out of his mind - though the memory of Hikaru's lips on his didn't go anywhere - he concentrated on the game. _'He doesn't seem have any problem sorting this thing out,'_ Fushou mused, eyeing the Goban. Hikaru was playing a solid game - no, he was playing even stronger than before. _'Is this how Hikaru functions these days?'_ he wondered, glancing up. _'The more you distract him, the better he plays?'_ he smiled at the notion. _'That'd be quite the skill…'_

He turned his eyes downwards and began to play in earnest. _'I'm not giving up yet, though,'_ he mused.

It was a close game and despite the brilliant battle over the grid and the clashing of swords at the corners, it was somehow comfortable. Homey in a way. While playing the finishing move and leaning back as Hikaru wondered if there was more he could do, Fushou wondered if this would be the way it would be with Hikaru. Comfortable and oddly cosy tug o' war of Go and romance with an occasional odd gesture of affection and trust from Hikaru that made Fushou more or less yell at him? The man chuckled. That… didn't sound too bad, actually.

"I guess that's it, then," Hikaru murmured, leaning back as well and grinning. "One and half moku. I'm really gaining on you."

"You're just getting used to my skill. I'm not even sure if you _need_ to gain on me. You're a good player," Fushou leaned forward again, to eye the Goban. Hikaru was good. Better than he had been in the past, much better, or so the déjà vu seemed to think. "It's starting to be a close match."

"Yeah, it is," Hikaru yawned, stretching his hands. "It's also starting to be late. How about I fix us a snack and we get ready for bed?"

"Yes, that sounds fine," Fushou said and together they cleared the board. "Do you have a game tomorrow?"

"Yeah. If I win it, I rise to eight-dan," Hikaru grinned.

"What?" Fushou asked with surprise. "Really?"

"Yeah. It's the final game of the Meijin league. If I win it, and get to challenge Kurata Meijin for the title, I automatically raise a rank," the Go-professional grinned.

"Kurata… Kurata, Kurata…" Fushou murmured. "That sounds… familiar."

"Kurata Atsushi. He was sixth-dan ten years ago - we met him at a Go event and caused a bit of a scene with some crooked sales people who were selling stuff for more than it was worth. And I played a game of one-colour Go against him, that was tough," Hikaru laughed while they headed into the kitchen. "He won the Meijin title from Kimura-san some years ago and has been like a pit bull about it since."

Fushou blinked before nodding slowly. "Yes, I remember him now," he murmured and chuckled. "He seemed like amusing individual. Who are the other title holders?"

"Well, aside from Kurata-san, there is of course Ogata the title hog," Hikaru laughed. "He's the Honinbo, has been since they finally forced Kuwabara into retirement few years back - and man is he ever smug about it. He won the Judan title back from Isumi-san last year, and is also the Gosei title holder, has been for a little while now. Then there is Morishita-sensei, he's the Ouza at the moment. Then we have Toya, he's the Tengen title holder and finally there is Zama-sensei who is the Kisei nowadays."

"Interesting," Fushou murmured, trying to remember the people. He… got an impression of Ogata being blonde and remembered Isumi and Morishita, though rather vaguely. Toya now also brought an impression - of a young boy with neatly cut hair. He couldn't remember who Kuwabara and Zama were, though. "And you're trying to become the Meijin?"

"I'm trying to become them all," Hikaru laughed while starting to take out some food stuff for their snack. "I would've been Ouza if Morishita-sensei wasn't such an… Well, let's say he didn't give me any mercy," he murmured and sighed. "Well, I rose to seventh rank in that tournament, so I suppose it was worth it."

They continued to talk about Go and the title games while Hikaru made food for them. The talk moved from future games to the one they had just had, talking about the moves they had made and where they could have done better. The kiss incident was almost forgotten but not quite, as Hikaru seemed a little more affectionate than before, reaching across the counter every now and then to touch Fushou's hand almost tenderly. And once they were finished with the food, he even took Fushou's hand and kissed his knuckles, before standing up to put the dishes away.

"Hikaru," Fushou spoke while watching him to put the dishes into the washing machine. "Are we a… couple?" he asked carefully.

"Sure, if you want to be," the other answered without looking up.

Fushou blinked. _'Just like that he leaves the decision to me? Does he_ have _to be so nonchalant about it?'_ he wondered. "Do you want to?" he asked with a frown.

"Sai, I'm fine being anything with you," the man laughed, glancing at him. "Just as long as you don't go anywhere again."

The other's frown darkened. "You know, it is rather impolite, making me choose for you," he said rather distressed. _'It's also very, very unnerving to be given this much choice over another…'_ he added silently. "Surely you must prefer one to other." The words were followed by a short silence, which made him add rather desperately; "I _can't_ decide this sort of thing for you."

Hikaru glanced at him before turning to face him completely. He folded his arms, looking thoughtful. "I don't prefer one to another. It's a choice I thought I'd never have the chance to make, so I never bothered to think about it," he shrugged. "Being friends with you, being lovers with you, they both have their merits… but I suppose I'm not exactly a friend kind of guy."

"Huh?" Fushou asked confusedly.

The other chuckled, walking forward and reaching over the counter to place almost a sweet kiss on his lips. Fushou blinked with surprise while the other smiled. "I like doing this," he murmured, lifting his hand to Fushou's cheek and tracing his fingers down gently. "If you asked me to be just your friend, Sai, I'm not sure if I could stop."

 _'And… that isn't the sort of friendship either of us want,'_ Fushou realised. They had an… odd relationship, he could admit that, it teetered somewhere in the nexus of friendship, romantic love and who knew what else, but… _'But being like that would ruin it. Us. Whatever we are, we aren't… casual.'_ Shaking his head and making his decision, he reached forward to kiss the man in a slightly deeper and more meaningful manner. "I guess that's decided then," he murmured, drawing back with a slightly embarrassed smile.

"Yeah," Hikaru agreed with a grin, leaning his elbows comfortably to the counter and kissing him again. Humming happily, he then withdrew. "I think this should be it for tonight, though."

"Really?" Fushou asked, feeling a little disappointed.

"If we keep this up, I'll do something we might regret later - and I doubt we'd get much sleep, and, like I said, I have an important game tomorrow," Hikaru grinned widely while the other blushed. "And I can't… not before you remember everything."

Fushou nodded in embarrassed understanding. It wasn't like he was ready to take a step further than this anyway, though he would've liked to keep on kissing. That was enjoyable once one got adjusted to it - and he had wanted to get adjusted to it some more. "Bedtime then?" he asked.

"Yes," Hikaru agreed. "We'll figure out what to do with your apartment and all that tomorrow."

The whole process of getting ready for bed was a little awkward, visiting the bathroom in turns and then saying a shy goodnight in the corridor. It ended up with Fushou almost biting Hikaru's lip during a goodnight-kiss and then trying a wrong door when trying to get into the guest room.

"Huh?" he murmured as the door wouldn't open. "It's locked?"

"Wrong room, Sai. Yours is the one on the left," Hikaru chuckled, pointing at the other door.

"Why do you have a locked room in your apartment?" Fushou asked confusedly, glancing at the man. Wasn't it _Hikaru_ 's apartment and no one else's? What's the purpose of securing a room when you were the only one living in the house - unless Hikaru had specifically locked it so that Fushou couldn't get in…?

"Well… mostly it was because there's something inside I didn't want to show people, something I didn't want people to touch," Hikaru answered, scratching his neck in thought. "But since you're here, I suppose it doesn't really matter that much…"

"Huh?" Fushou asked confusedly. "There's something important in there, then?" and since it didn't matter anymore… it had something to do with him? Suddenly he got a cold shiver. _'He thought I was dead, but… Hikaru didn't make a shrine for me, did he?'_

"You wanna see what's inside?" Hikaru asked with a smile, before turning and heading to get the key. Soon he returned and opened the lock before opening the door for Fushou. At first the long haired man couldn't see anything, but then Hikaru clicked the lights on.

The first thought that came to Fushou's mind was that the room had to be the most beautiful one in the entire apartment. It was beautifully old fashioned. Instead of the polished wood of the rest of the apartment, the floor was covered with tatami mats and instead of curtains, the window had been hidden behind shoji screens. Even the walls and the ceiling had been remade with wood. There were scrolls on the wall instead of frames like the ones with the Kifu and in the corner of the room there was an exquisite vase with reeds in it.

But what dominated the room was the Goban in the middle. It was taller and by the looks of it much older than the one Hikaru had in his living room. At each side there was an old fashioned zaisu chair with zabuton pillow and a separate armrest on the left side. With the stone bowls sitting at each side of the Goban, it looked like the setting had been just made ready for some important game.

"It's kind of embarrassing," Hikaru murmured while Fushou stared at the place in fascination. "This place got out of hand…"

"Hikaru?" Fushou asked confusedly. "This place is amazing. Why do you hide it like this?"

The man chuckled, taking a step forward and looking around with odd sort of expression - pride mixed with heart break. "Because it isn't my room," he answered with a shrug. "It's yours."

Fushou stared at him with confusion.

Hikaru shrugged again, looking at the Goban tenderly. "Grandpa died few years back," he said quietly. "He left me that Goban in his will, since I kind of had built a… fondness towards it. I didn't really want it with me, though. I didn't have a place to put it and… I didn't deserve it… I couldn't bear to look at it for long. But he gave it to me, so… I brought it here." The man glanced around. "This room was an office before that, though I never really used it for anything else but playing around on the 'net. It was either emptying this room, or the guest room, so I emptied this one."

"You emptied one entire room, just for the Goban?" Fushou asked confusedly. _'Why didn't he just put it in storage or something if he didn't intend to play on it?'_

"Well… yeah," Hikaru answered like it was the obvious thing to do. "At first the Goban just sat there, but it was kinda lonely - and the floor was kinda off… so I got the tatami mats. Then the screens for the window because the curtains didn't really fit. Eventually I got the scrolls for the walls, but they didn't fit the walls themselves, so I hired a carpenter to redo the walls and the ceiling… it got out of hand," he chuckled awkwardly while crouching down beside the Goban and tracing his fingers over it.

It was the look in Hikaru's eyes that made Fushou frown and realise what this was about, why this man would build a complete room around a single thing. "That Goban is mine, isn't it?" he asked, certain of it even though Hikaru had said he had inherited it from his grandfather. The scene before him only needed a fan to complete it as homage to _Sai_.

Hikaru nodded. "This place has been a sort of sanctuary for me," he chuckled sadly, looking around. "A place to escape from the world." He turned to look at the other man. "I just realised I think I probably come off as a weird over-obsessive stalker," he said with an embarrassed laugh. "Sorry about that."

Fushou shook his head and stepped forward. "This room is really beautiful," he murmured, glancing around before turning his eyes to the Goban. "Reminds me a little of the Room of Profound Darkness."

"You remember that, huh?" Hikaru murmured, reaching his hand and sliding his fingers among the other's. "Do you remember this Goban?" he asked while pulling Fushou down with him.

Fushou reached his free hand to touch the surface of the old board, tracing the precise grid with his fingertips. A sort of painful nostalgia assaulted him and he smiled. "I think… I think I do," he whispered. "A little of it."

The other gave him an odd look, almost sad or regretful one. "I'm sorry," Hikaru whispered, lifting the other's hand and kissing his fingers. "I really am."

"It's not your fault," Fushou answered, though he wasn't quite sure exactly what Hikaru as apologising for. For what had happened, for what he had done, or for that he was remembering? Either way, it didn't matter. _None of it_ was Hikaru's fault. None of it ever had been. "I was… a bit selfish, wasn't I?" he whispered. "Back then."

"And I was rude and mean," Hikaru laughed, shifting a bit closer to him and wrapping one arm around his waist. "We made quite a pair. Arguing all the time about everything, like a pair of brats."

"You _were_ a brat back then. But we had fun." The other smiled gently at the memories. "We… had lot of fun in those two years we were together." Even if it had been such a painfully short time, they had enjoyed it, hadn't they? He had at least. It had been the greatest time he had had. He hadn't wanted it to end. He had never wanted it to end. He hadn't wanted to leave…

"Yes. Yes we did," Hikaru agreed, kissing the other man's shoulder gently. "Sai…" he whispered. "Do you have any idea how hard it was letting you leave my apartment that first day?"

The long haired man chuckled quietly, staring at the Goban "Yes, Hikaru. I know." Holding onto the other's hand a little tighter, he closed his eyes and let himself remember Fujiwara no Sai, and a thousand years of longing.


	6. The Rest of the Fans

The first thing Hikaru did after waking up was sneaking to the door of Sai's room to take a look at the man - just to make sure that he was still there. It was still hard to believe and at times he thought he would wake up any moment now to the unforgiving reality that once more it was just a dream. Granted, none of his dreams before had been so detailed or so enjoyable, or quite so long, but… he wouldn't put it past his imagination. It had come up with weirder stuff.

After five minutes of staring and another five of wondering whether or not he should wake the other, he blew the man a silent kiss before forcing himself to walk away. _'He's not going anywhere, he's not going anywhere,'_ he chanted at himself, throwing a look at the white coat hanging in the entrance hall, at the framed Kifu, at the slightly open door leading to the Sai's Room, as he called the Goban-room, and at the Goban on his living room floor. Everything was and wasn't as it was supposed to be.

 _'This will take some getting adjusted to,'_ he mused, glancing at the white coat again. Coat, not a kariginu. Pants, not sashinuki. Shirt, not a hitoe. No hat, tate-eboshi or otherwise, which was something of a pity. Though on the other hand seeing Sai's hairline was somehow awesome in its own way. He shook his head. Either way, modern clothes. _Sai_ was wearing _modern clothes_. _'Modern pyjamas currently, and modern…'_ Hikaru blinked before deciding that no, he was not thinking about Sai's possible underwear this early in the morning. _'Let's try again in the evening.'_

After a quick visit to the bathroom, and picking up the newspaper from the front door, he headed to the kitchen to make himself some coffee - drinking which was a horrible and utterly disgusting habit and he would forever bear a grudge towards Ogata for inflicting him with it. While adding a hefty amount of sugar into the cup, he leaned his elbows on the counter and wondered what to do now.

 _'I don't need to get going for another two hours, then I'll be busy for most of the day,'_ he mused, pulling out his phone and flipping it open to see the time. Taking a sip of the bitter, albeit sugary, sludge his caffeine addiction forced him to drink, he glanced towards the hall. _'I wonder if Sai's fine staying here while I head off…'_

Trying to push aside the ridiculous mental image of Sai as a house wife, with apron and everything, he glanced around the house. Well, there was certainly enough Go-related stuff there to entertain the man. _'And he can play NetGo, that is… if he actually can use computers…'_ the fact that Sai knew how to use phones was miraculous enough, so Hikaru wasn't exactly putting all his hopes on Sai being a complete computer prodigy. _'I wish I could take him with me to the association but that might cause a bit of a scene… besides, it's only a league game.'_

Taking another sip, he wondered about that. To him the path onwards from here seemed clear and obvious. Sai would live with him, naturally, eventually moving out from the guest room to Hikaru's room once they got that far - hopefully soon though Hikaru wasn't going to push his luck there. And then, eventually, Sai would become a pro. It would take a while, being autumn and the pro exam beginning only in the spring, but he didn't mind that. The more time together, the better.

 _'I need to fix the whole apartment thing,'_ he mused. _'And pay his bills if he has any unpaid. Well, that shouldn't be too much of a hardship, his being such a tiny place…'_ and he had the money. What with being a professional, playing in tournaments - and even if didn't have a title, he had won other tournaments on occasion, so that also got him some extra - and being a NetGo partner, he wasn't exactly poor. _'Albeit, being a NetGo partner doesn't make anyone exactly rich… but that's beside the point.'_

 _'I wonder if he has many friendships or anything like that,'_ he wondered while staring at the coffee cup. _'It's been three years he said…'_ pushing aside the twinge of jealousy at the thought that Sai had been there _for three years_ and he hadn't known, he wondered about what had happened to the man in that time. _'Three years is a long time. He hasn't mentioned anyone, but who knows…'_

It was rather cruel of him, but he wished Sai didn't have friends. And definitely no romantic relationships. That way he could keep the man to himself. _'Now now, Hikaru, your dark side is showing. Let's save that for Toya, shall we?'_ he mused with a chuckle. Shaking his head he turned to the newspaper and decided to continue thinking about the whole thing once Sai woke up.

He had finished both his coffee and reading the paper and decided to check for updates on NetGo by the time Sai did wake up. As the man came out, Hikaru couldn't help but stare for a moment. Sai with his hair loose was a sight to behold, but Sai with bed head? And the man apparently had no idea how to wear pyjamas properly, as the top was slipping down his shoulder.

 _'How the hell can I let this man ever leave my sight?'_ Hikaru laughed mentally in a rather desperate manner, physically forcing himself to stay seated instead of jumping up and grabbing the man. "Good morning, Sai," he said instead, throwing the man a smile. "Did you sleep well?"

"Mmm…" the man answered, walking sleepily towards him and collapsing beside him on the couch. "I think I might have slept too long. I usually wake up earlier than this," he murmured, yawning. "My head hurts a little."

Hikaru blinked, glancing down to the half bare shoulder, which was now very close to him, and then up to Sai's face, relaxed in its slight tiredness. NetGo had no chance and was promptly ditched for more interesting activities. "Do you want some medicine? I think I have something for headaches," Hikaru said while slipping his arms around the other man's waist and bringing him close. _'Mmm… Sai scent. I'll never get tired of it,'_ he mused, breathing in.

"I'm fine," the man yawned again, leaning his head against Hikaru's shoulder and, at the same time, revealing a little more of his bare neck and shoulder. "I don't really like taking medicine anyway," he murmured, apparently completely unaware of what Hikaru was staring at.

 _'Oh my god, his collarbone,'_ Hikaru whimpered mentally, hurriedly looking away. He could not, would _not_ nibble it. That sort of thing might freak Sai out. He needed to wait until the man was ready. _'This is going to kill me,'_ he whined. "I suppose some tea might help too, or so they say anyway," he said, trying to make his choked swallow not so obvious.

"I'd like that," Sai murmured, glancing up from Hikaru's shoulder and to the laptop sitting in the table. "Did I interrupt something?" he asked.

"No, I was just checking for updates on the NetGo site," Hikaru answered, thankful of the distraction. Releasing Sai from his embrace - though one of his arms rebelled and stayed around the man's waist - he turned to look at the computer again. "And to see what they're saying about you now."

"They're talking about me?" Sai asked curiously, turning to the computer as well. "What are they saying?"

"Oh, the usual conspiracy theories," Hikaru grinned. _'Thank god it doesn't seem like Waya has picked up on it yet. Too busy in_ _Korea_ _, I imagine,'_ he mused with mild relief. Waya was another NetGo partner, though, so it was only a matter of time before he would hear about it - and then probably scream Hikaru's head off. _'That could be fun to see, though…'_ he chuckled before realising that his fingers were playing with the hem of Sai's pyjama top and were just about to pull it up. He quickly opened the forum. "Here, check it for yourself. I'll fix some tea for you."

He managed to pull himself away before any daring moves and thankfully Sai didn't seem to notice either way. Sighing with relief - and _agony_ because it was so hard not to touch Sai when the man was so close - he headed to the kitchen. _'I need another cup of coffee,'_ he decided. _'A stronger one.'_

In the living room, Sai chuckled. "These people are quite thorough in their game analysis," he said. "Interesting how much they can talk about simple MobileGo games."

"They're _your_ games, so of course they talk." Hikaru shrugged while starting to boil the water. _'Though I suppose the fact that I'm the other player helps the fame… either way, any true_ sai _fan will pull up a miracle, a moral and probably some grand lesson in life out of all those games if they get the time,'_ he snorted.

After the tea was done and he had fixed himself a coffee, he returned to the living room. "I need to head off in an hour and I'll be gone for most of the day," he said while sitting down and handing the tea to his… boyfriend? That was just weird. _'Boyfriend does not fit Sai. He needs a better word like, um… lover? No that doesn't fit either… and partner is just awkward… though accurate.'_ "Are you going to be okay here?" Hikaru asked. _'Beloved? Okay, that's just mushy…'_

"I'll be fine. I was thinking of visiting my apartment to get some clothes and necessities," Sai answered while accepting the tea. He chuckled at the frown Hikaru gave him. "I've been using public transportation for three years now, Hikaru. I know how to get there and back without getting lost."

"Maybe," Hikaru murmured. _'But that doesn't mean I like it,'_ he thought. "I think it might be easier if we go later with my car, though, you can bring more stuff."

"True enough," Sai agreed, taking a sip of the tea. "When will you get home, then?"

 _'Home. Sai called this place home. Awesome!'_ Hikaru thought, barely able to suppress his grin. "Pretty late. I have the game and after that I have the discussion - and maybe an interview if I manage to win. But I think I should be back around seven…"

"That is pretty late…" Sai murmured, glancing at the laptop screen to see the time. "But… I guess I can wait here," he said, glancing around. "I can familiarise myself with this place."

Hikaru grinned at the thought of Sai getting adjusted to his home, before lifting his coffee cup for a sip. "I can make you all set up for NetGo if you want to play," he suggested. "You shouldn't have any trouble finding opponents, at least."

The other chuckled and nodded. "I'd like that," he said, smiling at him. The pyjama top was still falling indecently low and the still slightly sleepy smile on Sai's face was almost sated. "Thank you, Hikaru."

The coffee didn't stand a chance either.

 

* * *

Akira was grumbling almost all the way to Shindo's apartment. _'I can't believe that man! Taking off like that…'_ he growled silently. _'And after a game like that! What is he thinking?!'_

He had been pushed out of the Meijin tournament by Ogata-sensei early on, only to see Shindo beat Ogata a little later. Now Shindo had overtaken taken Ichiryuu-sensei like a monster, giving the man no mercy, and after a game like that, after a promotion to eight-dan, what did the man do? He went home! Without saying anything to anyone and barely giving any word to the Go Weekly reporter! _'And he knew I was at the Association, when he knew I'd want to talk about the game if he won!'_ he grumbled. _'Sometimes that Shindo just… infuriates me!'_

Actually it was most of the time, though usually it was overshadowed by the fact that he most likely infuriated Shindo just as much. Shaking the thought out of his head, Akira pulled the front door of the apartment building open before heading up the stairs, wishing that using the excess energy in the physical activity would prevent him from blowing up to Shindo's face. Even if he wanted to.

Eventually he was at the right door and ringing the doorbell impatiently. He could hear talking from inside and for a moment wondered if Shindo was on the phone, when one of the voices came closer and he could tell it wasn't Shindo. Then the door was opened - by someone who was definitely not Shindo.

"Uh…" Akira said, halting in mid speech. The man was unfamiliar to him, so not one of the pros or one of Shindo's many students. With the face this man had and the hair, he certainly would've remembered. "I'm looking for Shindo Hikaru?" Akira more asked than said as the man just stared at him with surprise.

"Ah, of course, my apologies," the man said, bowing his head briefly in apology, before looking over his shoulder to the apartment. "Hikaru! Toya Akira is here to see you!" he called.

"Tell him to go away!" Shindo, who was apparently in the bathroom, answered.

Just as Akira frowned and opened his mouth to argue, the man in front of him smiled and opened the door a little wider. "Hikaru's taking a shower right now, but he shouldn't take long. I just making some tea, there's enough for you, if you're willing to wait…" he stepped aside.

"Oi!" Shindo called angrily. "I told you to tell him to get the heck out, not to invite him in!"

"There's no need to be so impolite, Hikaru!" the long haired man called to him cheerfully while waiting for Akira to get in. "Please come in."

Akira blinked and, all the while giving the strange man an odd look, stepped inside. While he toed off his shoes, the long haired man closed the door behind him before turning and heading towards the kitchen. Akira followed, glancing around for any clue about this man's identity. Shindo wouldn't have just up and gone to shower if the man had been one of his students - he would be at the Goban, obviously, so maybe that wasn't it. A relative then? He knew for a fact that Shindo didn't have siblings, but maybe he had cousins or something?

From the corner of his eye he could see that the guest room door was open - and there was a bag sitting on the floor next to it. _'That supports the relative theory, I suppose,'_ he mused, as they came to the kitchen and the odd long haired man - really really long haired man - soon offered him a cup of plain green tea. "I haven't seen you here before, and I come here pretty often… Are you one of Shindo's students?" he asked awkwardly. "Or… maybe a relative?"

"No," the man chuckled. "I am…" he started before trailing away. "Hm… that is a little problematic," he said in realisation before shrugging his shoulders and smiling brightly. "I'm Hikaru's boyfriend."

Akira almost choked on the mouthful of tea he had misfortunately enough just taken. As the long haired man made a move to help him, he lifted his hand to stop the man before coughing himself into coherence. "Excuse me?" he choked out. _'Shindo has a boyfriend? Shindo's gay?!'_

"Is there something wrong with it?" the long haired man asked amusedly, though giving him a slightly concerned look.

"Well, uh… no, but, uh… really?" Akira asked, blinking owlishly and feeling thoroughly idiotic when the man merely nodded, now giving him a slightly more worried look. "I never knew Shindo was like that," he murmured with horror mixed in with wonder.

"Like what?" Asked the man himself, who had apparently rushed his shower and was now heading towards the kitchen wearing a bathrobe and dribbling wet. "What am I like?"

"Gay," Akira answered, giving him a suspicious look and feeling slightly betrayed for not having known this before. He glanced between Shindo and the mysterious long haired boyfriend who seemed merely amused by the whole thing, and added somewhat sullenly; "Also, your boyfriend almost choked me to death with tea." He blamed that on the Shindo-effect; the man had an odd way of making him childish.

"Oh, really, Sai? I knew you loved me!" Shindo said happily, bouncing to the side of the longhaired man. "You shouldn't have though."

"Don't be silly, Hikaru, and stop dribbling water on me," the man said, trying to squirm out of Shindo's embrace, though the attempt seemed half-hearted at best. "Idiot," he murmured almost fondly.

Akira couldn't help but stare at them. Seeing Shindo like this was… unnerving. Shindo wasn't exactly the friendliest person around after all - sure, he made friends left and right and rarely was mean or cruel intentionally, but Shindo was the very definition of having one's foot in their mouth. All awkward angles and sharp edges and well-meaning words which came out as ruthless insults. Also he was the sort of guy who would rather punch someone than hug them.

And yet there he was, hugging another man and looking like he would've been wagging his tail with happiness had he had one. Akira frowned. Where on earth had he gotten the time to find a boyfriend anyway? Especially as good looking as this Sai… Sai? Had Shindo just said _Sai_?

"Sai?" he asked out loud, looking between the two more intently now.

The two froze, glancing at each other. "I was just thinking about that. It might get a little awkward before long, my name," the long haired man said thoughtfully. "Introductions will be difficult if nothing else - and if I need to sign some papers or forms…"

"We could change it. There are procedures you can take for that sort of thing," Shindo answered looking thoughtful, leaning his chin casually to the other man's shoulder. "I could look it up on the internet, I bet there are ways of doing stuff like that. Who knows, maybe you can even do it over the internet. You can do pretty much everything else anyway…"

"I think I was told that my name is somehow temporary anyway," the long haired man agreed. "It is only one name. I was never even given last name."

Shindo blinked. "What, really? Just the one? That's harsh."

"Excuse me," Akira frowned. "What are you talking about? And is he _a_ Sai or _the_ _sai_?" _'And do I have to get a rolled up newspaper somewhere to whack some sense into Shindo?'_

"A and the," Shindo answered, looking insufferably knowledgeable and mysterious all the same. "Though right now he's called Fushou."

" _Shindo_ …!" the other professional Go player growled in warning.

Shindo grinned while the man in his embrace sighed. "You really like baffling other people this much, Hikaru?" he asked amusedly.

"Yes I do," the other agreed happily.

The long haired man chuckled, shaking his head. "I suppose that explains few things," he said before looking at Akira. "Currently my name is Fushou," he said. "Though my real name is Fujiwara Sai - and yes, Toya-kun. I am _sai_ of NetGo."

Akira blinked. He hadn't actually believed the man to be _sai_ \- it was just a reflex these days, to demand answers about the Saint of NetGo. It was an old subject, after all, it hadn't really come up in _years_ and when he was plain about it, it hardly mattered these days - except for the hardcore NetGo players and _sai_ fans. In all honesty, he had not only expected never to find out the truth - not from Shindo at least - but he didn't even actually care anymore. It was just another never ending argument between them that kept popping up every now and then. To be told the truth so simply… and if this was Sai, and Shindo's _boyfriend_ …

"I think you broke him," Shindo grinned. "Bet you a bowl of ramen, that the moment he snaps out of it he'll demand a game."

 

* * *

 

 

"Akira is here?" Seiji asked curiously while removing his shoes at the entrance of the Toya house. "His shoes are here," he said, motioning at the pair of neat shoes that could only belong to Akira - as Toya Koyo rarely wore anything except sandals and the former Meijin's wife wore shoes with heels.

"Yes, he's visiting his father - or was, but now he's playing with the computer," Toya Akiko chuckled. "Koyo's at the Goban, obviously. Should I bring you something? I can make some tea…"

"I'm fine, I don't think I can stay for long," Seiji disagreed. "But thanks." Then he navigated easily through the house, knowing it pretty much from top to bottom after years of more or less apprenticeship under Toyo Koyo, he found the room preserved solely for Go, where the Meijin was predictably enough sitting by the Goban, reacting a game. "Good evening, sensei."

"Ogata," the elder man nodded with a brief smile. "Did you come for a game?"

"Hm. I was hoping to discuss a game I had with Zama-sensei today, if you don't mind," Seiji said while sitting across the Goban in seiza. "Something about it bothers me, but it wasn't solved in the after game discussion. I was hoping you'd be able to tell me what it was so that I can finally push it out of my mind."

Actually, the game with Zama wasn't what bothered him - it was the story he had heard from a Go Weekly reporter, about Shindo completely annihilating his opponent in the last game of the Meijin tournament. Of course since the brat had beaten him earlier, he was somewhat satisfied - to see Shindo beaten by Ichiryuu after the brat had defeated him, that would've been embarrassing. But still, Shindo wasn't strong enough to _annihilate_ a former title holder. It unnerved him and he needed something else to think about.

"Very well, if you think that will help," Koyo nodded with a chuckle. "Sometimes it's good that games continue to haunt us, though. If we forget them immediately, we don't learn anything from them. Let me just clear this one away and you can re-create your game…"

"Wait, is this…?" the younger man leaned forward. The game was glaringly familiar - as it was one of the most famous games played by the former Meijin. Not only that, but he saw the game every single time he visited Shindo - the brat had it _framed_ in his apartment. "This is your game with _sai_. Sensei, you still…?"

The old man smiled amusedly. "I suppose now days it seems like nothing more than an old man's foolish dream, Ogata," he said and instead of starting to clear the board, he placed another stone on it. "To keep waiting for a repeat of this game."

"Sensei, it's been ten years," Seiji murmured. Sure, he had wished and hoped and dreamed as well. Not just to see another game between Toya Koyo and _sai_ but a chance to play a game against the Saint of NetGo himself. It was, however, impossible. The only one who seemed know who _sai_ was wasn't speaking - and, just like he had appeared, _sai_ had vanished without a sound long ago. _Sai_ , Seiji believed, was dead.

"Ten years of waiting indeed. Seems like a fool's errand. It is very strange to wake one day and find that it was all worth it," the old man let out an odd chuckle.

"What?" Seiji asked confusedly. "Worth it?" he blinked, looking at the man strangely. "How so?"

"It seems Sai has returned," Toya Koyo answered simply and nodded towards the direction of Akira's old room. "Akira is playing him on the computer."

There was a moment of silence as the words sunk in. "… _what_?!" Seiji finally managed.

"Go and see," the former multiple title holder laughed good naturedly and looked down to the Goban again. "He's been at it for half an hour now so they should've played enough hands already for you to tell."

"B-but…" Seiji looked at the door leading to hall which then led to Akira's room, and then back to his teacher. "If Akira is playing _sai_ , then… why are you not watching?"

"I don't need to," the older man answered. "I will get my chance. I don't wish to ruin it by seeing him play beforehand."

Confused, Seiji merely stared at the older man for a moment, wondering if he had lost his marbles. _Sai_ returned was hard enough to believe, but the way his teacher was reacting to it was even harder. After ten years of waiting for a game, one would've expected the man to be a little more excited about the prospect, but the man seemed… rather uncaring. Though he was certainly more amused than before.

Slowly, the Honinbo stood up. "Excuse me," he said with a brief bow before heading out and towards Akira's room to see if he really was playing _sai_ , if the internet sensation was really back - or if his teacher was finally losing it in his old age.

Akira was indeed at the computer, and playing NetGo. The game wasn't as developed as one would've expected of an internet game that had been going on for half an hour, but when Seiji got closer he could see that it was already intense. "Is it really him?" Seiji asked, leaning a little closer to see that the nick indeed said _sai_ \- and that the game already had fifty four viewers. He narrowed his eyes. This _sai_ was skilled, but was he really _the sai_ from ten years ago? And when had this _sai_ appeared?

"Yes it is, damn him," Akira murmured. He was leaning back with his arms folded and thoroughly irritated look about his face. Then he looked up, realising what he had said. "Oh, Ogata-sensei. Hello."

"Hello, Akira," Seiji answered, rolling his eyes before frowning at the screen. "When did he return? How did you find out?"

"He started playing MobileGo about a week ago - I checked the forums and the game logs," Akira huffed, looking annoyed. "I found out about it today, though. At Shindo's place."

Seiji blinked, straightening his back. "Oh?" he asked. Had Shindo finally, after ten years of very irritating secrecy, admitted knowing the man?

"Yes, that pretty much covers it," Akira grumbled. "I met him too. He's younger than I suspected, but I got the chance to play a game against him face to face, so I know for a fact that it's him. Seemed like a nice man, though considering that he's Shindo's… well, he has to have the patience and personality of a saint for that anyway… rather fitting, considering he's the Saint of NetGo…"

"He's at Shindo's - _sai_ is at Shindo's place?" Ogata asked with a sharp inhale. He turned quickly to leave when Akira nodded. "I'm going over there."

"I wouldn't recommend it," the younger pro laughed mirthlessly.

"Why not?"

"Because Sai hasn't made a move for the last seven minutes and forty eight seconds," the younger man sounded partially sullen though mostly he sounded just irritated. He was now more or less glaring at the screen. "Which means Shindo's probably distracting him."

Seiji frowned. "What?" he asked. "How is that important?"

Akira laughed again and threw a very odd smile at him over his shoulder. "They're sleeping together."

"Shindo is sleeping with _sai_?" Ogata asked with confusion, the words not quite sinking in at first. Then he realised what the other had actually said. "Wait, _sai_ is sleeping with _Shindo_? Sai is _sleeping_ with Shindo?" he tried not to imagine it and failed. " _Sai is sleeping with Shindo_?!" The questions were followed by a short silence as Akira eyed him with a strange look of amused pity. "I don't believe you," the elder pro finally said after rationalising the whole matter. "This is some sort of stunt between you and Shindo."

"You can go over there and see it for yourself," Akira answered, giving him sideways look. "Might get to see more than you want to, too." Somehow he managed to include the words _you pervert_ into the sentence without actually saying them or even insinuating them.

Ogata paused slightly. "Well, I suppose I can ask Shindo myself later on," he concluded after a moment of consideration.

Akira snorted. "They're going to visit the salon tomorrow," he said. "Sai wants to play father."

Ogata nodded. It explained why the former Meijin didn't seem too bothered about the whole thing - his meeting was already scheduled. "I'll visit the salon tomorrow then," he decided. That would be a good chance to talk to the two and demand answers - as well as see how well his teacher would fare against _sai_ these days. And maybe he'd get a chance for a match himself…

"I'm going to kill Shindo," Akira decided after a moment of waiting for _sai_ to make his move. "Slowly and painfully."

"I'll help," Ogata answered while wondering where he had left his cigarettes. He needed a smoke.

Not much after, a window popped up in the computer screen, announcing that _sai_ was no longer online.


End file.
